


Illusions

by Sabishiioni



Series: World of Dreams [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Cop Athos, Cop Porthos, Drug Use, Firefighter d'Artagnan, Fluff and Angst, Lots of appearences from other fandom characters, M/M, Modern AU, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-graphic vomiting, Paramedic Aramis, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabishiioni/pseuds/Sabishiioni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a firefighter saves a paramedic's two best friends who happen to be on the local S.W.A.T. team, no one could have foreseen the way their lives would change forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pedwar

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Musketeers  
> Warnings: Read them  
> Follow Me (My Personal Blog): [Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Follow PI (My Writing Blog): [Tumblr](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/)  
> Mindless Babble: This is an accumulation of over a year of pouring my heart and soul into one fic. It (hopefully) will be updated every Thursday and Friday with the final chapter being posted on Christmas.

The man had two nervous behaviors. The first consisted of stroking his chin where his goatee once resided before he shaved it off. The other was worrying his lower lip to the point of drawing blood. Right now, Aramis René d’Herblay was beyond doing either.

Eyes blown wide in fear, it was all he could do to just remember to breathe. Twenty minutes ago, he had watched, with no small amount of pride, his two best friends, Olivier Athos de la Fère and Porthos Du Vallon, lead a Special Weapons and Tactics team into the small warehouse, allegedly an illegal arms depot. Exactly one minute ago, there had been a series of small explosions from inside the building. Thirty seconds later, a large portion of the roof collapsed into a firestorm that had once been a stable structure. 

"Aramis, no!"

The hand on his arm stopped him from foolishly rushing into the buckling structure. His partner stepped in front of him, forcing him to focus on her. Normally, he wouldn't mind as Constance was beautiful, even with her fiery red hair pulled up into a severe bun and away from the collar of her blue paramedic uniform shirt. Her green eyes grounded him for a moment though he still had to resist the urge to push her out of the way.

"There's nothing you can do yet."

"I know that!" Aramis snapped. He regretted the tone the instant the words were out. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean-"

"I know. Your brothers are in there and you're worried." Constance gave him an encouraging smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But you need to have faith in them. They'll be alright."

Aramis opened his mouth to reply but was distracted by a commotion by the front door of the warehouse. Men in black body armor stumbled from the building, supporting each other. Firefighters met them half way, helping them to safety. One of the yellow clad men stopped when an officer grabbed his arm and shouted something to him. He lifted his head to stare into the inferno a moment before running head first into it.

"D'Artagnan!" 

Aramis tore his horrified vision from the lone firefighter to the older man who remained after the S.W.A.T. team was ushered towards nearby emergency vehicles. He recognized the man as Treville, captain of the nearby fire station. He also recognized the expression of fear on the others face. Feeling a tug on his own uniform shirt, Aramis reluctantly turned to follow Constance, his head finally taking over for his heart.

As soon as they joined the firefighters in helping the S.W.A.T. team, Aramis immediately started looking for his brothers. His chest tightened in fear when he failed to find them among the wounded men. He knelt in front of an officer who had blood running down his cheek from a cut under his eye and opened his bag, hoping that the distraction would help.

"Aramis..."

The medic finally focused enough to actually see who it was he was helping. "Dujon..."

"Athos and Porthos are still in there..."

Aramis swallowed and tried to concentrate on the wound. “Wh….what happened?”

“They were like maybe ten feet in front of the rest of us. And then there were those explosions-bombs in the rafters- and…and debris fell, cutting them off from us. The fire…smoke…we couldn’t see anything….just heard Porthos shouting for us to get out! And…and…”

Aramis took the man’s face in his hands, forcing Dujon to look him in the eyes. “Breathe! It won’t do anyone any good if you pass out.”

Dujon took a shaky breath, followed by another deeper one. Aramis smiled and started to butterfly bandage the cut closed. He was washing the rest of the blood off when those who hadn’t been taken by ambulance let out a cheer.

“Aramis! He did it!” Constance was already running towards the trio coming from the collapsing building.

Dujon laughingly pushed Aramis to join his partner. He stumbled into a sprint, relief flooding his body. As Constance took Athos, Aramis slid an arm under Porthos. Both officers released their breathing masks to lean heavily on the paramedics who carefully guided them to the last remaining ambulance, parked a little distance away. Constance took Athos into the back with the intention of looking at the bleeding wound on the man's temple while Aramis sat Porthos on the step.

"It was a Dream factory..."

Aramis bit his lip at the mention of the illegal hallucinogenic drug that was both insanely popular and extremely dangerous. Chemically manufactured, it catered to a large variety of tastes as it was tailored made. Want to feel like you're relaxing on the beach of a tropical island? There's a Dreamscape for that. Want to feel like the Caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland? There's a Dreamscape for that. Want to torture your ex in a medieval dungeon? There's a Dreamscape for that. 

Yet there was always a price to pay at the end. Sometimes it came in the form of an addiction so bad there was no hope of recovery. Other times it was simply death from starvation, the victim so lost in a Dream, they forgot to live. The worse were those with permanent psychological damage, unable to deal with reality any more. Aramis had seen more than a few of those.  
He reached for an oxygen canister as Constance snagged the other. Even though the drug was usually injected, the fumes from the chemical used to make it were enough to cause some damage. As he tried to fit the mask over Porthos’ face the man stopped him, fear in his eyes.

“Aramis! It was a Dream factory!”

“Yes, I got that. That would be why I’m trying to get as much oxygen into you as I can.”

Porthos shook his head. “No…Athos and I had air…the boy didn’t.”

“Boy?” Aramis blinked in confusion. “What boy?”

“The fireman…” Athos answered, his voice muffled by the mask. “He gave me his…”

Eyes widening in sudden understanding, Aramis nodded, slipping the elastic band over the black, tightly curled hair and setting the plastic mask over his friend’s nose and mouth. “I’ll go find him, alright?”

With a glance at Constance who gave him a nod of encouragement, Aramis turned and headed to where the fire trucks and a single S.W.A.T. team van remained. Aramis waved the officers off, indicating that Athos and Porthos would be going with him. Grim faced, Captain Louis Bourbon nodded and made sure everyone was loaded up before taking off. Aramis knew that after a quick stop to get cleaned up, most of the team would off to the hospital to check up on their comrades.

He found the man he sought standing with his head bowed as his captain loudly reprimanded him. “How could you do something so foolish? You know that you are not to enter a building alone! What would you father have said about you doing something so stupid?! What were you thinking?!”

“I rather hope he was thinking of rescuing two of River City’s finest, who just also happen to be my best friends,” Aramis interrupted. “Forgive me, Captain, but I was informed that this was a Dream factory and that this man may have inhaled some dangerous fumes. I’d like to take him for treatment.”

Treville snorted and glared at the firefighter. “Good luck getting him anywhere even near a hospital…”

The man’s shoulders dropped as Treville turned and left them, gathering his men to see what they could do to put out the lingering fire. Aramis stepped in front of the remaining firefighter and gently took the helmet from the other’s head. He barely managed to hold back a gasp. Even covered in soot and sweat, the man was gorgeous in that cliché fireman’s calendar sort of way. Dark hair framed a clean shaven face that was a few shades lighter than Porthos’ mocha colored skin. Almond shaped eyes were downcast, preventing him from seeing what color they were, but Aramis was willing to guess they would be a match to his. He decided to find out, lifting the other’s chin with two fingers.

“Let me check your eyes so I can figure out the level of panic to go into, okay?” He was pleased when a small smile accompanied the deep brown eyes that focused on him. “Hmm… A little bit dilated. We should get you to a hos-“

“No!” An expression of pure terror took over the young features as the man took a step backwards. “Please! I…I can’t go there…I…I…Just can’t…”

Alarmed, Aramis moved his hand to the coat covered shoulder, recognizing the start of a panic attack. “Alright, alright- no hospital. But at least come with me to the ‘bus. If nothing else, I know that there are two officers who would really like to thank you.”

At that, the fireman ducked his head, his hands fisting in slight embarrassment. “I was just doing my job…”

Aramis was instantly charmed at the show of shyness. “Well, I’m sure they’re both grateful that you were…as am I. You saved my family so you have my gratitude. Now how about we go over there and see if we can at least start a treatment for you.”

Pleased when the young man allowed him to guide him back to the waiting ambulance, the medic struggled to hide the grin as he draped an arm across the slender shoulder. “My name is Aramis. The beautiful young lady is my partner Constance. The two men you rescued are Athos and Porthos.”

The man finally looked up but spoke softly. “D’Artagnan. Charles d’Artagnan, but no one calls me by my first name…”

All three people sitting in the back of the ambulance offered smiles and gestures of greetings. Aramis didn’t fight it anymore and let the smile take over his features as an idea came to him. “Constance, my dear? I think we should celebrate the fact that everyone survived. Would you mind driving us to my favorite place?”

Constance gave him a look of long suffering exasperation. “I am not taking you to that gay strip club again!”

Blushing to the roots of his wavy brown hair, Aramis shook his head rather violently in mortification. “Not that place! I meant oZone.”

“Oh! That place. Alright. But you’re paying this time.” Constance grinned and moved to get into the driver’s seat.

***

“Please, Agnes, just babysit them until I get back. You know I’m good for it.” Aramis glanced at where Athos and Porthos, now stripped of their armor, were trying to explain the different flavors to d’Artagnan. If he had thought the boy was gorgeous before, he was simply breathtaking now that he wore only his slacks and a white t-shirt under a denim jacket that had seen better days.

The strawberry blond sighed. “What happened this time?”

“Dream factory burned down around them. D’Artagnan apparently has a serious fear of hospitals so I brought them here.” He watched as Porthos and Athos playfully argued over the best flavor, bringing a small grin out of the younger man. “He gave his air to them…”

Agnes let out a soft gasp. “Oh…Then…does he know what he’s in for when he tries to sleep?”

“No, which is why I want to go back to the hospital and get my car. The lovebirds can take care of themselves and I’ll watch over d’Artagnan.”

“Because you’re such a good Samaritan?” Agnes smirked. “Oh don’t give me that look! You are hopelessly smitten with him! A blind man could see that.”

Aramis blushed as he looked down at his boots. “I don’t even know if he swings that way…”

“Want me to find out for you?”

“NO!” The horrified expression wilted a bit. “I mean…unless…um…it happens to come up in conversation…”

Agnes giggled softly. “Aramis, you hopeless romantic! Go, I’ll watch out for these three.”

Sighing with relief, Aramis grinned. “And…if you can, try to give d’Artagnan a bit extra. The more oxygen he gets, the easier it’ll be for him later.”

The owner of the oxygen bar smiled softly. “I can do that. If you let that lovely and tolerant partner of yours know that the next time she’s in here, it’ll be on the house for driving your sorry ass all over town.”

Aramis snorted but kissed the woman on the cheek. “Fine. Thank you! You are a saint, Agnes!”

***

“So, which way?”

Aramis glanced in the rear view mirror to see Athos leading a grinning Porthos into the house they shared. Though they were in for a very long night, the medic knew they would care for each other, offering comfort and reassurance as they needed it. In a way, he was a bit envious of them.

“I live off of Lupiac.”

Keeping his expression neutral was an exercise in sheer willpower. Lupiac was in the Gascony district, which was well known for being that “bad area of town” that every city apparently had. It seemed odd that a man with a fairly well-paying job would be living there though.

“I moved in before I became a firefighter. Never really had much reason to move.”

“Tell me I wasn’t thinking out loud,” Aramis asked, a light pink cresting on his cheeks.

D’Artagnan laughed, sending the butterflies in Aramis’ stomach all a flutter. “No, but you had the same expression that most people have after I tell them and just before they ask, so I thought I would just…pre-empt you.”

“Ah…”Aramis shook his head. 

“Look, you really don’t need to do this for me,” d’Artagnan said, staring down at his hands. “I mean I know you’re grateful and all but-“

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’ve never come in contact with Dreamscape.” He glanced over long enough to see the other man shake his head. “I thought not.”

Aramis heaved a sigh. “Tonight’s going to be really bad for you. Every fear, every nightmare you’ve ever had, every terrifying memory …they’ll all be in your head as soon as you fall asleep.”

He noticed d’Artagnan paled considerably and wondered what horrors the young man carried. “That’s why you’ll be staying with me. I’ll be there to wake you from the nightmares and reassure you that you’re still alive and safe.”

“You know, I never said I lived alone…”

“You didn’t need to. Your actions speak louder than words.” At d’Artagnan’s confused expression, Aramis explained. “You ran into a collapsing building alone and came out without an air mask. That says to me that there’s no one waiting for you at home.”

D’Artagnan bit his lower lip before turning to look out the window. The rest of the drive was done in silence.

***

“Home sweet home!” Aramis said as he dropped the two large garbage bags of clothes in the middle of the living room. He turned around and rushed to help d’Artagnan with the stack of boxes he was carrying. They soon joined the bags. “We can leave these here until we get your room cleared out.”

“You really don’t have to do this…”

“Yes I do.” Aramis grinned as d’Artagnan took off his boots at the door. “There was no way my good conscience could’ve let you stay in that death trap you called a home.”

D’Artagnan snorted softly. “It wasn’t that bad…”

“I swear I saw a rat with a shiv watching me as I gathered up your books.” The jest had the intended effect as the other laughed softly.

“Well, I do appreciate this.” D’Artagnan looked around the apartment, his smile growing. Two walls in the living room were lined with bookshelves that had volumes double stacked in some place. An entertainment center nearly covered the third wall with a huge flat screen TV that was hooked up to a Blu-ray player and several game systems. The glass cases on either side of the TV were filled with movies and games. The black couch dominated the room, though. Shaped like a stunted “u”, it wrapped around a dark metal and glass coffee table which was currently littered with a pizza box and a few empty beer bottles.

“I didn’t feel like cooking last night…” Aramis mumbled as he stooped to clean up. “But don’t worry! I’m going to make us bacon and cheese stuffed burgers tonight!”

“That sounds good…I think.” D’Artagnan grabbed the beer bottles before Aramis had the chance and motioned for him to show him where to throw them.

“You can put them in there,” Aramis said, pointing to a recycle crate in the kitchen. He shoved the pizza box in the trash and washed his hands before opening the refrigerator to find the hamburger he had bought the day before. He heard a shifting noise behind him and realized that d’Artagnan was a bit lost about where he should be. He turned and offered an apologetic smile to the fireman.

“The bathroom is down the hall, the first door on the left, if you want to get cleaned up. Towels are in the linen closet down the hall from the bathroom, across from the washer. You can leave your clothes in the hamper in the bathroom.”

Laughing, d’Artagnan nodded. “A shower actually sounds heavenly.” He went digging through a bag of clothes and found a pair of sleep pants and an old t-shirt. He graced Aramis with another shy grin of gratitude before heading down the hall.

Hearing the water turn on, Aramis resisted the urge to go take a peek, figuring he should at least wait 24 hours before trying to scope out his new flat mate. Sighing, he started making the burgers, mixing the raw meat with some seasoning. His expression darkened as his thoughts turned to what tonight would be like. He knew neither one of them would get much sleep. He didn’t have work the next day and he insisted that d’Artagnan call Treville to request it off as well. The captain had understood the circumstances and easily agreed, giving the younger man a four day weekend since he was also moving.

He finished stuffing the pair of hamburgers and set them on the little indoor grill he had. With a sigh, he also started a pot of coffee. It would be at least 12 more hours before the toxins were out of d’Artagnan’s system but only a few hours before the Dreamscape forced him to sleep.

On the plus side, it would give him time to come up with justification for moving a complete stranger into his home and it was going to have to be a really good one for Athos and Porthos.


	2. Njuta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Musketeers  
> Warnings: Read them  
> Follow Me (My Personal Blog): [Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Follow PI (My Writing Blog): [Tumblr](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/)  
> Mindless Babble: Thank you so much for all the Kudos and comments on the last chapter! It really helped to get through my long and lonely shift. Today, Aramis finds out that d'Artanan's reality was much worse than nightmares. Plus, how Athos and Porthos met. Also, tiny Easter egg in this chapter I would love to know if anyone catches it.

“Aramis, you look like shit!”

The man in question looked up at Porthos. “Remind me again why I gave you a key to my place?”

“Well, we were dating at the time and you never asked for it back…”

Aramis huffed a dramatic sigh as Porthos took a seat next to him at the kitchen table while Athos sat down across from him. It honestly never occurred to him to ask for the key back and he knew he never would. A glance at Porthos’ all-knowing grin told Aramis that his best friend knew it too.

“Neither one of you look much better, I’m sure.”

“Perhaps, but then again, we have an excuse.” Athos tilted his head at the pair of mugs on the table. “Of course, it appears that you might have one as well.”

“And would this excuse have anything to do with the pile of stuff in your living room?” Porthos asked, glancing back into said room.

At Aramis’ blush, Athos rolled his eyes. “Please tell me you’re not that stupid!”

“He has no one, Athos! He was living in the Gascony district! His bed was a mattress on the floor! I couldn’t leave him there! Not after what he did…not after the nightmares…” He trailed off, staring into the remains of his coffee.

“He’s not a stray pup, Aramis!” Porthos exclaimed before actually looking at his friend’s expression. Sighing, he reached out and took Aramis’ hand in his own, offering comfort to combat the desolation in the man’s eyes. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Something more than this…whatever you feel for him.”

Aramis gave the man a weak smile of gratitude for not labeling his feelings as an infatuation. He knew he wore his heart on his sleeve even though he also knew the dangers of it being broken. Porthos had picked up the pieces more often than not, carefully patching it back together again. For that alone, Aramis knew that he could always trust the two men at the table, for Porthos could never love someone who would abandon a friend. Besides, since the two of them had started dating, Athos had been there for him just as much as Porthos. 

“He stayed up as long as he could, but the Dreamscape won out. It always does, doesn’t it?” Porthos again squeezed his hand, giving him the courage to keep going. “I’ve never seen anyone react so badly to it. I’m sure that at one point, he stopped breathing altogether.”

He felt another hand covering the one Porthos held. “The first time is always the worst, even if it’s just from the fumes.”

Aramis nodded, remembering too late that Athos had lost his brother to the drug. It drove him to attempt to find understanding at the bottom of a bottle, putting his aspiring career as a cop at risk. Porthos was the one to drag him from that life, forcing him into sobriety. Porthos was good at that.

“So you stayed up with him all night?” 

Aramis nodded, thankful to Athos for bringing him back to the present. “He fell into a somewhat peaceful sleep about two hours ago.”

“So…why are you still up?” Porthos questioned, his voice thick with concern.

“Some of the things d’Artagnan said while he was in the throes of a nightmare…I got to wondering.” Aramis flipped open the laptop that sat in the middle of the table. “So I did a bit of research.”

He turned it so the other two men could read the article. He watched their expressions, seeing the exact moment understanding hit them, quickly followed by horror. He could sympathize, having actually thrown up after he finished reading. 

“He watched his father burn to death…” Athos breathed out in utter revulsion.

“He was only 15,” Aramis added sadly.

“Actually, I was 14. My birthday was a few days later.”

Aramis stood up in embarrassment. “D’Artagnan- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to pry into your life…“

The younger man waved him of, shuffling into the kitchen to look at the screen. A frightened child stared back at him, a picture of him wrapped in a grey blanket, clinging to a bundle of burnt fabric. He shook his head, closing the laptop before heading over to the coffee pot with the other mug he had taken from the table.

“I’m the product of a one night stand. My father didn’t even know I existed until the day my mom died of cancer and Child Services showed up on his door with me in tow. He didn’t want me, but knew I didn’t have anyone else. I was eight.”

Aramis watched as d’Artagnan poured the fresh coffee into the mug, thankful he thought to brew it. He smiled inwardly at how easily the younger man fit into this life, still in his sleep pants and t-shirt, getting coffee as if he had been doing the same thing for years. He silently wished for it to be years.

“Your father was a local hero,” Athos said, watching d’Artagnan for signs of Dreamscape aftereffects. 

“Yeah, he was.” D’Artagnan sat down in the empty chair, Aramis sitting with him. “To everyone but his son. To me, he was just the man who signed permission slips to go to the zoo and kept food in the fridge.”

“Still, what happened to him…and to you…”

“It…was horrible. I woke up screaming from nightmares for years afterwards.” D’Artagnan stared into his coffee, unknowingly mimicking Aramis. “Probably the reason why I spent the rest of my childhood being dumped in one foster home after another. Probably also the reason I became a firefighter- so no other kid would have to go through what I did.”

Aramis felt his heart break at the dejection in the man’s voice. He wanted nothing more than to wrap d’Artagnan in the thickest comforter he could find and hide him from the world. Knowing that could be taken wrong, he instead wrapped his hand over the slender forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze, something he had learned from Porthos. It earned him a small grin from the younger man.

“Well, then I guess that cinches it!”

Aramis turned his head to focus on Porthos, scowling in confusion. “Cinches what?”

Athos smiled, catching onto what his lover was planning before Aramis. “I believe what Porthos means is that d’Artagnan should come with us tonight.”

The medic blinked, appalled that he had forgotten their weekly get together. He glanced at d’Artagnan, wondering what his reaction would be. He figured he would stay with the young man no matter what his decision would be. There was no question in his mind that after the horrible night he had, d’Artagnan would not be able to handle being alone.

“Come with you? To do what?”

“The three of us try to go out and do something once a week depending on our schedules. We all had tonight and tomorrow off so we were planning to go out to the Palace to have dinner. Probably stop at Cold Stone or something afterwards.” Porthos grinned, clearing thinking of the thick cut prime rib that was his usual therefore missing d’Artagnan blanching.

However, Athos didn’t miss the reaction. “Or we can just order pizza and spend the evening heckling bad movies, if you’d like. I know the aftermath of Dreamscape poisoning is unpleasant to say the least.”

D’Artagnan looked at Aramis. “You guys should go out if you had plans. I don’t mind staying here. It would give me a chance to…um… move in, I guess.” He glanced towards the living room where his things were.

“No, you’re one of us now so you’ll just have to get used to our man dates!” Porthos grinned. “Let’s get that wreck Aramis call a spare room cleaned up and your stuff moved in, take a nap and then decide what to do from there.”

D’Artagnan still appeared uncertain. Aramis desperately wanted the younger man to feel welcome and he had a feeling the other two wanted that as well. Smiling, he moved his hand from the firefighter’s arm to his hand.

“You heard Porthos- you are one of us now. You might as well get used to it. He never takes no for an answer, especially not from a friend.”

“Alright…I just don’t want to be a burden on you guys.”

“I’m sorry, d’Artagnan,” Athos intoned with a completely straight face. “Once Aramis decided to move you in with him, you lost that privilege.”

It took a few moments, but d’Artagnan’s huff of amusement finally broke the tension in the room. 

***

Even though he wasn’t getting his steak, Porthos had to admit that the small, upscale Japanese restaurant was probably the better choice for all of them. There were seated on pillows around a low table, in a private booth. Having just finished their meal, they decided to forgo the saké even though Athos protested, saying he was fine with the others drinking. Instead, they ended up sharing a pot of white Jasmine tea, a favorite of both Aramis and their newest addition. 

Porthos couldn’t help but to notice how seamlessly d’Artagnan had become integrated with them. The fact that he and Aramis fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces convinced him that the younger man belonged with them. Porthos tried but failed to remember ever seeing Aramis smile this much or laugh this freely.

“So, how did the two of you meet?” d’Artagnan asked, tilting his head while looking at the pair sitting across from him.

Porthos grinned. “It’s been a few years but still one of my better memories. Well, the last part at least.”

“Not one of my greatest moments but it was…a place to start,” Athos added, smiling softly.

_Three years ago…_

“Can you believe they’re saddling us with the new guy on his first command call-out?” 

Porthos looked up from strapping on his shin guards. “What new guy?”

Serge shrugged, grabbing the helmet from his locker. “Some guy from a different precinct. The word is that he almost got fired and had to transfer.”

Scowling, Porthos slid into his tactical vest. “Fired? What for?”

“Guess he got drunk and punched out a fellow officer.” The older man checked his sidearm before holstering it. “Not sure if that’s true, but it kinda fits our squad…”

Porthos huffed, but couldn’t argue. Their squad did have the reputation for taking in those who were on their last leg- career wise or other. He had seen more than a few men commit suicide in the line of duty, most of them from this particular S.W.A.T. team. Still, sending them in with a commander they never even met before was odd.

Sighing, Porthos followed Serge to the garage where they loaded up in one of two vans. It was only after he settled in that he noticed the unfamiliar man. Maybe half a head shorter then him, the man had a close cropped beard and wore a bandanna over what he thought was dark colored hair. He had a mark on his mouth that Porthos recognized as a surgical scar from a cleft lip. It was difficult to tell what color his eyes were in the darkened van though he thought they might have been blue or green.

“We have an unknown number of assailants holding at least a dozen people hostage in a bank vault. There has been at least one death, the security guard stationed there. So far, negotiations have failed and they’ve disabled security cameras.”

“So, what? Are we going in blind?”

Porthos glared at LaBarge, willing the man to shut up for once. 

“We will not be going in at all if things are done correctly,” Athos replied coolly. “At least not as a team. I’ll be taking one of you with me through the back. We should be able to get a clearer picture then.”

A rat faced man named Bonnaire sneered at their new commanding officer. “Sorry, I don’t swing that way!”

Rolling his eyes at the snickering, Porthos spoke up. “I’ll go with you.”

“You would,” LaBarge snidely remarked.

“Thank you, Officer Du Vallon,” Athos cut in, forestalling the impending argument. 

The van came to a halt and the men filed out, Athos directing them to set up a perimeter. Though arrogant and judgmental, they were good officers and followed orders. Porthos noticed the way his new commander’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“They’re not always so bad.”

Athos shrugged, motioning for the other man to follow him. They circled around back and were able to quickly and quietly subdue the pair of guards. Once at the door leading into the main part of the bank, Porthos broke out the flex scope. He got down on the floor and fed the camera under the door. Athos dropped next to him, causing the darker skinned man to scowl, finally getting a whiff of his breath.

“Are you seriously drunk?”

Athos cocked his head to glare. “I’m a functional drunk. Deal with it. How many guys are we looking at?”

Growling softly, Porthos returned his attention to the camera. “Looks like there’s only three…no four guys. One with a shotgun, two with pistols…Glocks… and one with…an Uzi. Amateur…” 

He heard Athos snort in something that sounded like amusement. “Think we can take them out?”

“I don’t know. How’s your aim when you’re drunk?”

“I can shoot a melon off a man’s head at 10 yards.” He then smirked. “I can’t make that shot sober…”

“Fine, but try not to hit the hostages, alright?” 

In the end, he and Athos took out all four gunmen with non-lethal shots and saved the hostages.

***

“Will you just sit still and let my love have a look at you!”

Athos’ pain glazed eyes tried to focus on the fuzzy blur that was his fellow lieutenant. “Love?”

“Yes, Athos, meet Aramis. Aramis, this is that damn functional drunk I was telling you about.”

“Ah. A pleasure to finally meet the man who causes so much grumbling…”

Despite himself and his injury, Athos felt himself blush. “Sorry to…be such a pain…”

Aramis tutted as he started cleaning the shoulder wound. “Don’t worry about it. If Porthos wasn’t worrying about you, he’d find something else to worry about. Like say, the lack of accuracy in the man that tried to take over the bus…”

Athos grinned for a moment, agreeing with the medic. In the few months of working together, he had come to the realization that Porthos was the world’s worst mother hen, always worrying about something. It was almost as if the man wasn’t happy unless he was complaining.

“He’s a good person…” Athos mumbled, watching Aramis clean the wound. He had been lucky- the bullet had gone straight through the fleshy part of his arm, avoiding bone and arteries. It would take some time to get back to normal but at least it wouldn’t take months of physical therapy.

“He is. That’s why I keep telling him that he needs to ask you out.”

It took far longer than Athos thought it should for the words to register. “What?”

Aramis smiled, first at Athos, then at Porthos. “I said he should ask you out. The last time he was this worried about someone, it was me. So, obviously, he needs to ask you out.”

“But…Aren’t you….I mean… He just called…”

Porthos threw his head back in laughter, seeing his normally suave friend completely unable to form a sentence. “Aramis does love to confuse people.” 

“I can’t help it if my brain works faster than my mouth.”

“But the two of you are dating!” Athos protested, still confused but secretly pleased at hearing Porthos’ deep, carefree laughter. It was one rarely heard.

Aramis taped a bandage over the hole on the man’s shoulder before moving to the one on the back. “Porthos found me at my lowest- someday I’ll tell you about it- and helped me to rebuild my life. Porthos will always have a special place in my heart and we both know it. But now, he’s found you and needs to move on.”

“I don’t want to be-“

The medic shushed him. “No, I always knew Porthos wasn’t for me.” He grinned at the bigger officer. “I think he’s found where he’s supposed to be.”

“You’re already planning out our wedding, aren’t you?” Porthos asked with a grin.

“Maybe…”

“I haven’t even asked him out yet.”

“Then you should get asking!” Aramis chuckled as he took his gloves off. “We need to get him to the hospital so we can get those holes stitched up.”

Shaking his head, Porthos turned to Athos. “So what do you say? Maybe dinner and a movie when you’re healed up?”

Athos blinked and realized his mouth was hanging open and had been for most of the exchange taking place in front of him. He snapped it closed and tried to glare. If it wasn’t up to his usual grumpy standards, then he could blame the blood loss. It definitely had nothing to do with the feelings of warmth he suddenly had for these two men.

_Present day_

“Of course it wasn’t until I took a pair of bullets to the chest that he actually decided to go sober.”

D’Artagnan’s eyes widened in surprise but before he could ask, Athos answered the unspoken question. “What I didn’t know at the time was that he was wearing a vest under his jacket. The jerk let me sit there and blubber for a good five minutes before he opened his eyes.”

Porthos laughed, still not feeling guilty about that incident. “But after that, Aramis and I helped him get and stay sober.”

Athos fished out the medallion that was always present around his neck and proudly showed it to d’Artagnan. “Porthos had this one made special for me since I don’t quite agree with all the principles of AA, but it marks the second anniversary of the first full day I stayed sober.”

“So that’s why we’re having tea.” D’Artagnan’s smile reached his eyes for the first time that night. “Congratulations!”

“I couldn’t have done it without these two idiots.” There was no heat in his words- only a fondness grown from the years of familiarity.

As d’Artagnan started asking questions about the details of the medallion, Porthos shifted his gaze to Aramis. The medic was watching the younger man with such adoration, he knew Aramis would do anything within his power to win the firefighter’s heart. And he knew he and Athos were going to be dragged along for what he was even more certain would be a wild ride.

***

Aramis set the book on his nightstand with a sigh. While it was enjoyable reading, it just wasn't holding his attention tonight. His thoughts kept returning to the man in the spare bedroom. He knew that d'Artagnan would probably sleep like the dead after dealing with the aftermath of the Dreamscape, but memories of holding the firefighter through the nightmares lingered. It had felt so right at the time...

Aramis sighed again reaching for the bedside lamp. Even as tired as he was, there was a restlessness in his bones that spoke of another sleepless night, one spent alone. He slumped back into his mountain of pillows as darkness fell around him. It was going to be a long, frustrating night.

"Aramis? Are you still awake?"

The medic sat up at the softly spoken question. "Are you alright, d'Artagnan?"

The younger man shuffled his feet a little, flinching slightly when Aramis turned the light back on. "Um... I... I was wondering...would it be okay if I..."

Aramis chuckled and lifted a corner of his blankets. "I know it's hard the first couple of nights in a strange place."

Grinning, d'Artagnan all but lunged for the bed, curling up next to Aramis. "Thank you."

Snuggling under the covers, Aramis couldn't help but to grin back. He wrapped an arm around the younger man, pleased when d’Artagnan relaxed against his tank top covered torso. He brought his other hand up to brush back a few stray hairs. D’Artagnan suddenly grabbed his wrist, staring at the crook of his elbow. Swallowing, Aramis realized what had caught the other’s attention.

“Remember the part of the story of how Porthos met Athos when I said that Porthos had found me at my lowest?” D’Artagnan nodded, his fingers lightly brushing over the scars of the arm he was no longer holding. “I started using when I was in high school- barely made it to graduation. Porthos found me passed out in an alley about six years ago. For reasons he still has yet to tell me about, he took me back to his place. He stayed with me through my withdrawal and helped me get back on my feet.”

“That couldn’t have been easy,” d’Artagnan said softly, almost as if he were afraid of breaking some spell. “Heroin addiction isn’t easy to kick.”

Aramis shook his head in agreement. “No, it’s not. I know I wasn’t a pretty sight. Yet Porthos stuck with me, even when he could have easily justified leaving.”

“And then you started dating?”

“Yes. And it was wonderful while it lasted,” Aramis answered with a blissful smile. “But I’m glad he found Athos. They fit well together.”

D’Artagnan nodded against his chest. “I’m glad they found each other too.” He brought his arm to tuck it against his own chest and snuggled tighter against Aramis. “Really glad.”

Aramis fell asleep with a grin on his lips and dreamed of the possibilities of what could be.


	3. Kefi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Musketeers  
> Warnings: Read them  
> Follow Me (My Personal Blog): [Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Follow PI (My Writing Blog): [Tumblr](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/)  
> Mindless Babble: Posting early because I have to go to work early in the morning. I've written some Tumblr posts where I talk about each chapter. They're on my PI blog. I just babble on about my thoughts, ideas and the silly stuff I put into this story. Warning for serious amounts of fluff.

“Seriously Aramis?”

The man in question glanced sheepishly at his partner. One hand clutched a bag of beef jerky and the largest cup of flavored coffee the convenience store carried while the other gently held a soft plush penguin dressed in a white hoodie. He blushed, refusing to look at his partner.

"It's for d'Artagnan."

Constance raised an eyebrow. "He's still staying with you?"

Aramis shyly nodded. "Yes...he helps around the condo and he's a really good cook!"

"Well, he is a firefighter...I suppose that makes sense." She chuckled softly. "So why a penguin in a hoodie?"

Aramis shrugged. "It's cute?"

"Oh you're hopeless!" Constance laughed, throwing up her hands. "Come on, we need to get going."

Nodding, Aramis went to pay for his coffee, jerky and the plushy before following his partner out the store. He stuck his drink in a cup holder and tucked the small bag behind the seat. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he paused for a moment.

"I don't know what to do, Constance. I think I might be falling in love with him..."

"But you don't know if he feels the same?"

Aramis nodded glumly. "I know he likes women but I'm pretty sure he likes men too. I just don't know if he likes me. What if he only wants me as a friend?"

"Then he's a bigger fool than you." Constance smiled at her distraught partner, opening her bag of trail mix. "Be patient with him. From what you've told me, d'Artagnan hasn’t had much real love in his life."

"I guess." Aramis turned the key, starting their vehicle. "We're taking him to the amusement park tonight."

"'We' being you and your S.W.A.T. boys?"

"Yeah. I'm pretending it's a double date."

Constance raised an eyebrow. "Why not just ask him to make it a real date. Then at least you'd know where you stand with him."

"Because I'm a world class chicken?"

Rolling her eyes, Constance pulled out her phone. “Fine, then I’ll just ask him for you!”

“No!” Aramis scowled. “Wait…why do you have his number?”

Constance laughed. “It’s not because he wanted to ask me out if that’s what you’re worried about.” She paused and then chuckled. “Well, that’s not true. He asked if I wanted to go to oZone with him because he didn’t want to go by himself and apparently Agnes was asking about me that time you took him there after that Dream factory mess.”

“Why didn’t he ask me?” Anger had melted into hurt and for once he was glad for a red light.

“I think he’s worried about being too needy around you.” Her voice softened. “He really feels indebted to you.”

“He shouldn’t.” Aramis sighed. “I guess I should talk with him if he feels that way.”

“Why did you move him in with you, anyways?” Constance asked, after a few blocks of silence.

“He saved my friends.” Aramis took a right, heading towards the hospital. “And yes, before you ask, I was physically attracted to him when I asked too. But after I saw how he was living…and then learning about his childhood, not to mention how kind and sweet he is. He needed a friend at least.”

Constance nodded. “And with you, it was a buy one, get two free deal.”

Aramis chuckled, agreeing. 

***

Aramis watched as Porthos heaved again into the ceramic toilet. “Seriously? It wasn’t even that bad of a ride.”

“Is he still puking?” d’Artagnan asked, opening the door to the stall a bit to hand Aramis the bottle of water he’d been sent to retrieve. “Maybe we should head home?”

Aramis heard the disappointment in his flat mate’s voice only because he had conducted a careful study of the man’s vocal range and cadence. He knew what this night meant to d’Artagnan, as it was the first one they all had off in over a month. The last time this happened was the night at the Japanese restaurant.

“We are not leaving!” Porthos firmly stated, taking the water from Aramis and managing a few sips. “We all need this and just because my stomach can’t handle one ride shouldn’t mean that everyone has to suffer.”

“I believe it had less to do with the ride itself and more to do with the three hot dogs you inhaled before going on the roller coaster,” Athos drawled from his position by the sinks.

D’Artagnan failed to stifle a snort of amusement which caused Aramis to smile. Though he would deny it to his last breath, Athos loved making the firefighter laugh and worked hard to perfect the skill. It delighted both Aramis and Porthos to see this new side of their friend emerging.

“Then perhaps we should visit the midway until your stomach settles?”

Porthos nodded as he got to his unsteady feet. He paled a bit but remained upright. After rinsing his mouth out, he flushed the toilet.

“Alright, I’m going to win a couple of stuffed animals for you both for taking care of me.”

D’Artagnan grinned as he glanced at his flat mate. “Okay, but I should warn you that Aramis already got me the best one ever!”

Porthos turned to see the blushing medic, a weak smirk on his lips. “He has, hmm?”

“Yep. Freddy is guarding the bed at home.”

Aramis blushed even deeper. ‘The bed’ was his own bed, the one they had been sharing since that first night. Anytime d’Artagnan tried to sleep alone, he woke up screaming, though two weeks had passed since the last time he actually bothered to try. Not that Aramis was complaining. It was wonderful just falling asleep with the man in his arms. Even if he was a blanket hog.

“’Freddy’?”

D’Artagnan’s grin grew. “Yep. He’s adorable.”

“Yeah, he is,” Porthos replied, still watching Aramis.

“Then if we are through here…” Athos gestured towards the door of the men’s room.

Porthos nodded and headed out followed by Aramis and d’Artagnan. The medic could feel Athos’ smirk following him out the door and he knew it would be a long time before he heard the end of this. The worst part was the fact that he had a suspicion that this was exactly what d’Artagnan planned.

***

“You know d’Artagnan, for an actual firefighter, you kinda suck at this game.” 

The man didn’t even spare his flat mate a glare, too busy trying to aim the squirt gun to get the water through the target. And utterly failing. The ten year old boy next to him actually got his fireman to the top of the ladder first. He squealed as the attendant handed him a teddy bear. Shaking his head and laughing, d’Artagnan stood up.

“I bet you suck at Operation.”

“Of course I do,” Aramis replied with a smirk. “I’m a medic, not a surgeon.”

D’Artagnan rolled his eyes. “Come on- let’s go find Porthos and Athos. Maybe they’re having better luck.”

Aramis nodded and shyly slid his hand into d’Artagnan’s. The younger man glanced down and tilted his head. Aramis moved to draw his hand back but was stopped as the pressure surrounding it increased. His heart soared as brown eyes met matching eyes and the rest of the world melted away.

The moment ended when Porthos called out to them. “Oy! We won you guys stuff!”

Aramis swallowed his disappointment at the breaking of the brief connection and turned his head to see Porthos and Athos coming towards them. Actually, he only assumed it was Porthos and Athos. A small mountain of prizes, which included a giant sized teddy bear, snake, tiger and giraffe among other smaller toys, was moving towards them.

“What the hell?” d’Artagnan asked, the humor clear in his voice. He ended up with the tiger and giraffe in his arms while Aramis found himself holding the bear and snake. 

“Athos found the shooting gallery,” the taller man said with a grin. “Turns out, he doesn’t need to be drunk to aim well!”

Athos snorted, adjusting the remaining variety of prizes in his arms. “Might I suggest a quick trip to the car to drop this stuff off?”

D’Artagnan poked his head through the pair of stuffed animals. “Yeah, that might be a good idea...”

Laughing, Aramis led the way to his beat up Impala. “I want to go on the carousel when we go back.”

“Fine, but then you have to go on the haunted house ride with us.” 

D’Artagnan tilted his head as Aramis blanched. “You don’t like rides like that?”

“I had a bad trip once,” the medic replied softly. “I saw enough scary stuff then.”

Brown eyes widened in sympathetic horror and a maybe a hint of understanding. “Then we don’t need to go on it.”

While Aramis unlocked his car, Porthos leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You know, if you go on that ride with us, you’ll have an excuse to get close to d’Artagnan…”

“I don’t need an excuse,” Aramis softly replied, dumping the two stuffed toys into the trunk. “We sleep in the same bed every night.”

Though he raised an eyebrow, Porthos said nothing on that. Instead, he grinned. “Yeah, but this would give you the excuse to hug on him while awake…”

Aramis blinked, visibly weighing the pros and cons of the suggestion. He turned to grab the prizes from d’Artagnan. “Let’s go on the haunted house ride. Then we can go on the carousel. “

The younger man scowled. “Are you sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do. Well, not really but how bad can it be? It’s all fake, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” d’Artagnan replied warily as Aramis took the toys from Athos and shoved them in the trunk next to the ones Porthos stuck in there.

“Then let’s go!” Aramis said with a grin that wasn’t entirely forced.

***

“You know, we really don’t have to go,” d’Artagnan said as he glanced down at where Aramis was possibly breaking the bones in his hand.

“N…no, we…I’m fine…”

“Obviously.” Porthos’ deep voice came from behind them and the youngest couldn’t resist flashing him a grin over his shoulder.

A few minutes later, d’Artagnan was getting into the car, gently tugging Aramis to his side. It was painfully obvious that the medic would rather be in the middle of a war zone than going on this ride. He gently squeezed the man’s hand in reassurance, as Athos and Porthos were seated in the car behind them.

The ride started out pretty tame with vignettes of graveyards with various demons in them and one of a group of skeletons having a party. Aramis was actually starting to relax, even giggling at the dancing skeletons.

“They’re all male,” he stated, pointing at the pelvis.

Athos rolled his eyes, though only d’Artagnan caught him doing it. “Only you would spot something like that.”

After that, though, things went downhill. They were suddenly plunged into darkness, with the only light coming from simulated lightning. Things started to swoop down over them causing Aramis to shriek and cling to d’Artagnan, which, in equal parts, amused and worried him. While he enjoyed having the older man clinging to him, d’Artagnan feared the aftermath of putting Aramis through this terror.

“It’s alright- they’re not going to hurt you. The ride is almost done…” 

As luck would have it, he apparently spoke too soon. With a horrific screeching sound, the car came to shuddering halt. D’Artagnan immediately twisted in his seat to wrap Aramis in a protective hug. He glanced at the two men behind them and wasn’t surprised to see them struggling to release the bar that covered their laps. 

A quiet whimper brought d’Artagnan back to the one thing he could do. Gently rubbing the trembling back, he spoke softly into Aramis’ ear trying to reassure the man. He felt a rush of pleasure go through him as the death grip on his sweatshirt loosened slightly. It touched him that a man whom he had known for only a month would trust him like this.

Abruptly, the emergency lights came on and the music stopped. It took a few seconds, but Aramis finally lifted his head, blinking in bewilderment. Bathed in white light, the area appeared to be more of a warehouse than a haunted house. The walls were draped in dusty black material and the ghosts that were sweeping over them were, in reality, nothing more than foam balls covered in wires and white cloths. 

“See? Not so terrifying now, is it?”

Aramis gave him a shaky grin and nodded. “What happened?”

“Damn ride broke down just as it was getting good,” Porthos growled, sitting back in his seat.

“I’m sure they will be along shortly to release us,” his lover added as he gave up fighting the bar as well.

“Are you alright?” d’Artagnan asked, his hand never leaving the still shaking body of his flat mate.

Aramis took a shaky breath before sitting up. “Yes…I… I’ll be better when we’re out of here but yes, I’m fine.”

It wasn’t long before a man in a grey jumpsuit walked up to their car. He quickly released them and asked them to go check in with Guest Services, offering them a heartfelt apology when he realized how shaken Aramis was. The four men thanked him and quickly made their way out the ride.

D’Artagnan slipped his hand into the medic’s as Aramis took a breath of the fresh afternoon air. “Feeling better?”

Aramis grinned at him. “I’ll feel a lot better when we’re on the carousel…”

Laughing, the firefighter shook his head. “Alright, but first we have to check in with Guest Services. Then we’ll ride it as many times as you want, okay?”

Athos led the way to the large office at the front of the park where they were each given a ticket for a free food item at any of the vendors in compensation for the failed ride. After noticing how pale Aramis was, the woman at the counter also gave him a polar bear mascot plushie. The other three at least waited until after they were out of the office before teasing him.

“Look at it this way, Aramis,” d’Artagnan shyly spoke as they got into the line for the merry-go-round. “Now Freddy will have company when we’re gone.”

Aramis chuckled, clasping the hand in his just a bit tighter in gratitude. 

The line was short enough that they were able to watch the brightly colored animals pass them by. In addition to the stylized horses, there was a jeweled sea dragon, a pouncing snow leopard, a leaping rabbit and even a new acquisition of a velociraptor among others. By the time it was their turn, the four men had already decided which animals they would ride.

“Does anyone else feel like…I don’t know...?” Aramis said as they mounted four beautifully painted horses.

“Like we’ve done this before?” Porthos finished the question.

D’Artagnan chuckled as he settled into the delicately carved saddle. “I’m glad you said something. I was afraid it was just me.”

“It feels right,” Athos said, tilting his head just a bit to glance behind him. “The four of us together.”

“Yes.” Aramis glanced over at d’Artagnan, who rode next to him. “Complete.”

***

“Perfect way to end the night,” Aramis said as he pulled a bit of the pink cotton candy from the rest of the fluff.

D’Artagnan smiled, stealing a bit for himself. He grinned wider at Aramis’ squawk of protest, pulling some of the blue fluff from his stick and offering it to the offended party. His eyes widened as the medic leaned forward and brazenly wrapped his lips around the fingers holding the spun sugar.

Leaning back with a satisfied smirk, Aramis looked away from the shocked expression of his companion to gaze out at the surrounding area. They were paused at the top of the Ferris Wheel for the moment giving them a brilliant view of the setting sun. Lights were starting to flicker on, bringing the night to life in the park. 

“I know one way to make it even more perfect…” d’Artagnan softly spoke. 

Aramis returned his gaze to the firefighter and was surprised to see him actually blushing. “Oh? How?” 

D’Artagnan stilled for a moment before darting into Aramis’ personal space and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. Before he could move back, Aramis caught the back of the d’Artagnan’s head and brought him in for another, slightly deeper kiss. It lasted a few seconds before the ride started again and they mutually broke apart.

“I wasn’t sure you felt that way about me,” Aramis admitted.

D’Artagnan dropped his eyes to the cotton candy in his hands. “I wasn’t sure either. I wasn’t even sure I wanted a relationship. At all.”

Aramis scowled. “Why?”

“I…I’m not good with love.” The younger man let out a soft sigh. “I think that maybe I sabotage any romantic relationship I get into…”

“They leave you, never the other way around?”

D’Artagnan nodded. “Not that I’ve had all that many relationships. I can count them on one hand. ”

“Well, I hope it stays that way.” Aramis took the other man’s slightly sticky hand and kissed the back of it. “I want to be your last.”

“I’d like that.”

Aramis smiled, though it was a bit sad. “I should tell you, so you know. I…I’m like the exact opposite of you. I’m not even sure how many lovers I had…”

D’Artagnan tilted his head, wanting to ask, but not sure how to do it in a way that didn’t sound insulting. Thankfully, Aramis picked up on it and answered before being asked. 

“I’m clean. Porthos made sure I got tested after he found me in that ally.” He let out a short bark of bitter laughter. “Though I couldn’t honestly tell you how. I would whore myself to anyone willing to give me a hit. It didn’t matter, so long as I got my rush.”

D’Artagnan gently squeezed the hand holdimg his, bringing Aramis back to the present. “It’s alright. So long as you say that I’m your last relationship, I’m okay with your past.”

Blinking back tears, Aramis let a real smile creep onto his lips. “That is one promise I can make now, thanks to Porthos.”

“Remind me to thank him,” d’Artagnan replied with a playful smirk, before leaning for another kiss. 

They spent the rest of the ride lost in each other.


	4. Mea Culpa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Musketeers  
> Warnings: Read them  
> Follow Me (My Personal Blog): [Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Follow PI (My Writing Blog): So tired... But a few answers here and an appearance by another fandom that has a special place in my heart. If you want to know more about this chapter, check out my PI blog. Or I'll post links in the last chapter on Christmas.

“So, how did it go yesterday?” Constance’s smile changed to an evil smirk as she added, “Or more importantly, how was last night?”

Aramis glanced at his partner before returning his attention back to the road. “We had fun at the park. Athos and Porthos won a billion prizes at the shooting gallery and we got to ride the carousel a half dozen times.”

“But what about last night?! I mean you had to have mentioned your feelings…” She scowled. “You didn’t tell him did you?”

It was Aramis’ turn to smirk. “I told him. After he kissed me at the top of the Ferris Wheel.”

“Aaaaaaand…?”

“And we spent the night talking.”

“Talking?!”

Aramis winced at the near shriek. “Yes, talking. As you said, he hasn’t known a lot of love in his life and he’s afraid. Too many people have broken his heart so he wants to take it slow. And I agreed.”

Constance sat in silence for several minutes before speaking. “You really do love him.”

Aramis pulled into a lot and parked. He couldn’t look at his partner as he said, “I don’t know why, but I feel connected to him…”

“Like a soulmate?”

The medic blinked. “Yes…” He lifted his head to stare at passing cars. “I don’t want to lose him. I can’t.”

“And you won’t.” Constance laid a gentle hand on her friend’s knee. “I know you, Aramis. Once you set your mind to something, you make it happen.”

Aramis finally turned his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

Constance opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by a dispatcher calling them. “Would you two mind taking over for Arthur and Emrys for the firefighter drill session? They got called out and it would just be until they get back.”

Seeing her partner light up at the thought of being able to spend some extra time with the man he thought so much of, she agreed. “We can do that.”

“Wonderful! Thank you!”

Constance didn’t even bother to hide her smug grin as Aramis started the ambulance and turned towards the practice site, without even having to ask where it was this time.

***

“Aramis! Constance! What are you guys doing here?” D’Artagnan couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. 

“Your usual medics are out on a call so they asked us to fill in.” Aramis stopped his approach, watching the other firefighters guardedly.

D’Artagnan glanced at them before figuring out why the man he spent most of the night cuddling was so hesitant to touch him. He reached out and pulled Aramis into his arms. Still beaming, he leaned in to steal a chaste kiss.

“I don’t really care what they think. I know I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

Obviously startled, Aramis offered a shy grin in return, but held on tighter to the man in his arms. “So I get to see you properly rush into a burning building this time?”

D’Artagnan let out a bark of laughter. “That’s this afternoon. This morning, we get to do calisthenics until we drop.”

“Ah, I was wondering why we were needed here so early,” Constance said from behind Aramis.

Blushing, but still unapologetic, d’Artagnan let go of Aramis and looked at the pretty redhead. “Yep- you get to revive us when we drop dead from the captain’s drills.”

Almost as if the young firefighter summoned him, Treville stepped out of the condemned building and started barking orders. D’Artagnan gave Aramis a quick peck on the cheek before turning to join his fellow firefighters. He had been looking forward to this day and now he was doubly excited since Aramis would be watching. 

Memories of the night before brought a special warmth with them. He still couldn’t believe that a man as handsome and kind as Aramis would be interested in him, let alone willing to take it slow. He had woken up to a gentle kiss on the cheek which dispelled his fears of the night before being nothing more than a dream. Even now, d’Artagnan was half convinced that he was already dead and in Heaven.

Treville started them off easy and gradually increased the intensity until most of them stripped off their shirts, the three women down to their form fitting sport tops. D’Artagnan couldn’t resist glancing over to the ambulance to see if Aramis was watching. The woman next to him caught him sneaking the peek.

“His eyes haven’t left you once since you took off your shirt,” the woman nicknamed Flea whispered during the short break between sets.

D’Artagnan blushed as he sipped some water. “You’ve been watching him?”

“Oh, yes. It’s been the highlight of my day,” she replied. “It’s the funniest thing, him trying so hard to not look like he’s staring…”

Blushing even deeper at her words, d’Artagnan opened his mouth to defend the man he may be coming to love, yet at that moment, Treville called them back. Not once did he notice the two sets of eyes that held nothing but loathing and disgust.

***

It was just after Treville called for a lunch break that the second ambulance pulled up. A tall blond man and a gangling, dark-haired younger man got out and headed over to where Aramis and Constance were eating with d’Artagnan and Flea. Neither of the paramedics recognized the new comers, but both firefighters waved in greeting.

“Hey Arthur, Emrys! ’Bout time you two showed up!” 

“Sorry. There was a traffic jam on the way back here,” the blond said, flopping down next to d’Artagnan, lightly punching his shoulder for the remark.

“One you two caused?” 

“Hey!” the younger medic protested. “That only happened once and it was Arthur’s fault!”

Arthur gently patted his partner’s knee, smiling at him indulgently. “It was actually a flock of geese crossing the road this time.”

The group burst into laughter, each one having their own story about the arrogance of the local birds. Lunch passed pleasantly and ended too soon. Arthur and Emrys walked Constance back to her ambulance while Flea jogged over to rejoin the other firefighters leaving Aramis alone with d’Artagnan. The medic grinned, pulling the younger man into his arms for a quick kiss. 

“See you tonight for dinner?”

D’Artagnan hummed in assent. “Chinese?”

“Pan fried noodles with a side of spring rolls?”

“Am I that stuck in a rut?”

Aramis smiled. “No, you just know what you like.”

“I know I like you,” d’Artagnan said, leaning in to steal another kiss. “But you better get going. Constance is looking far too smug.”

Laughing, Aramis kissed him once more before walking over to join his partner. As he got into the passenger’s seat, Constance waved at the other two medics before throwing the ambulance into reverse and backing out of the parking lot of the former office building.

“So…Arthur and Emrys.”

Aramis chuckled, grateful that his partner wasn’t teasing him for the kisses he and d’Artagnan had shared while talking. “They don’t seem too bad. But ‘Arthur’? That sounds like a name for a pompous king.”

“I know, right? And what kind of name is ‘Emrys’? Makes him sound like a druid priest or something.”

As they left the lot, Aramis spared a last look in the rear view, trying to spot d’Artagnan. He made a mental note to pick up some of the cookies they both liked. Smiling, he silently planned for a night of munchies, movies and lots of cuddling.

***

Aramis stared into the paper cup of stale coffee with reddened eyes. He felt lethargic and his body was void of all feeling. His tired mind could no longer process what was happening around him and therefore missed the arrival of his two best friends. It was only when Porthos knelt in front of him and took the cup from numb hands that he even registered their presence.

“Porthos?” 

“Yeah, I’m here. So is Athos.” The larger man gently took the trembling hands into his own. “Aramis, what happened?”

“I…I don’t know… He…he was fine when we left him…” He felt his throat starting to close up. “I…I got a call…from a nurse here… She said I was the emergency contact number for… for…”

“D’Artagnan.” Athos sat to the right of the shaken man, softly clasping the medic’s left shoulder. “How is he?”

Aramis’ voice dropped to a strained whisper. “I don’t know- they haven’t told me anything.”

“That’s good news, right?” Porthos asked, trying to look into the other’s eyes. 

“It means he’s still alive and knowing him, he’s fighting to come back to you, Aramis.” Athos squeezed the medic’s shoulder a bit harder in a vain attempt to illicit a reaction. 

“We were supposed to have dinner together tonight.” It came out as sounding like a stated fact, hollow and empty when it was really so much more. “I even got it from his favorite restaurant…but I forgot to pick up the cookies…”

Porthos brought the hands he held to his lips as Athos leaned in and tightly hugged the shell of a man. Aramis tried to muster a smile for them in gratitude but couldn’t find the energy to do so. Instead, he leaned into the arms holding him and sighed, trying to release the fear and frustration that had been pent up inside him for the last … He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that only an hour had passed since he got to the hospital.

“Aramis?”

The medic managed to lift his head to see a man in navy blue slacks and a RCFD t-shirt. It took Aramis a few moments to place where he had last seen him and even longer to place a name to the face. In his defense, it had been over a month.

“Captain Treville…”

The older man sat on the edge of the seat across from Aramis. “How is d’Artagnan?”

Aramis felt his throat close up at the name and could only shake his head. He was beyond grateful when Porthos answered for him.

“No one’s told him anything, other than the fact that the kid was brought here. Hell, we don’t even know what happened.”

Treville sighed. “I thought as much.” He looked over his shoulder at a pair of firefighters that were standing a respectable distance from them. “Vadim! Felix! Get over here and tell these men what you told me!”

As the two men started to make their way over, Athos finally spoke up. “Is that our cue to leave?”

“No, both of you should stay.” Treville’s expression darkened. “Besides the fact that Aramis obviously needs you…I think this may actually involve both of you.”

Aramis scowled at the growl in the captain’s words. He was prevented from asking about it when one of the men sat down kitty-corner from him. The other glanced at their captain and flinched at the glare he received.

“Go on, Vadim. Explain to the nice police officers and the good paramedic as to why they’re sitting in a godforsaken hospital instead of at home having dinner.”

Aramis felt both Porthos and Athos move closer to him and silently thanked them. Their presence was, right now, the only thing keeping him from falling apart. Just the way the captain spoke, he knew he wasn’t going to like what came out of the firefighter’s mouth. 

_Three hours ago…_

D’Artagnan cleared the room and was getting ready to leave it when he found his path blocked by two of his brothers, both with their face shields up. He felt a gut reaction and took a step back from the pair. 

“Hey guys. Something wrong? I mean besides the building burning down around us?”

“Yeah, there’s something wrong.” The bigger man, Vadim, stepped forward and pushed d’Artagnan hard enough for him to stumble and fall. “You.”

Felix laughed from behind his friend. “It was really disgusting, watching you make out with that medic.”

“Yeah, how many times have you checked us out in the showers, huh?” 

D’Artagnan felt the heat of rage coursing through him as he got to his feet. “Never. Really, I only have a thing for guys with class which is something the two of you are severely lacking.”

D’Artagnan wasn’t prepared for Vadim’s fury and failed to move fast enough to avoid the right hook. The force of the punch threw him into the burning wall which collapsed under his weight. His bunker coat and helmet protected him from the fire but it was still enough stun him for a few precious seconds. He closed his eyes trying to swallow the panic that was starting to build in his chest. Opening them did nothing to calm him as his vision was filled with the sight of flashing red digits. It took d’Artagnan far longer than it should have to recognize the device for what it was.

Someone had set a bomb in the storage closet he had just fallen into and the blinking numbers were rapidly dwindling down to zero.

Leaping to his feet and trying to ignore the dizziness that accompanied the change in altitude, the young fire fighter turned and started shoving his attackers towards the door. They tried to resist until d’Artagnan’s panicked voice cut through the smoke.

“Bomb!”

The three ran towards the door, the youngest screaming into the radio to clear the area. He glanced back for a moment, just before slamming the door. His heart sank as he realized the numbers had reached zero.

His last thought before everything turned back was how much he was going to miss having dinner with Aramis that night.

_Now…_

“He saved our lives,” Felix whispered, finally speaking up. 

Vadim looked like he wanted to say something more but Treville stopped him with a glare. “You two are dismissed. You’ll be informed of the hearing’s date soon.”

Aramis watched the men sulk away, his body even more numb than before. As Vadim had told his version of the story, he envisioned what it must have been like for his beloved. He could hear Athos and Porthos frantically whispering to each other but to Aramis, it sounded as if they were under water. Or perhaps he was; it certainly felt like he was drowning.

His nearly senseless mind recognized the appearance of a surgeon, a beautiful woman whose name, Ninon de Larroque, he would learn later. His ears heard the words “ruptured internal organs”, “bleeding” and “broken bones”, but his brain seemed unable to process them. Only one thought permeated his fog shrouded thoughts.

“When can I see him?”

Ninon looked at him, surprised. He didn’t know if he had interrupted her but she didn’t give the impression that he had. Instead, her expression melted into one of sympathy.

“It will be some time before we can move him out of recovery. You should go home and get some rest, maybe try to eat. He will need you strong for when he wakes.”

There was something he had to tell her, something important. The memory of their first meeting managed to pierce the cotton that surrounded his thoughts.”D’Artagnan hates hospitals. He’s terrified of them.”

“Yes, I know that well. It is a well-documented fact.” Ninon gave him a sad smile. “We will be keeping him sedated for the next few days so he can recover.”

“I should stay here then…” It made perfect sense to him, though he knew he said the wrong thing when Athos and Porthos gave him one of their shared looks that said he had done something stupid. He hadn’t seen that look since the day he moved d’Artagnan into his condo.

“Come on, Baby,” Porthos said, wrapping an arm around Aramis, getting him to his feet. “Let’s go get some food into you.”

“We can come back after d’Artagnan has been moved into his room.” Athos turned his attention to Porthos. “Take Aramis home. I need to speak with the doctor and then I can take Aramis’ car and meet you there.”

Aramis looked between the two men and then at Treville who had remained with them. “But… d’Artagnan…”

“Will still be here,” Treville said with a gentle smile. “Go get something to eat and some rest. D’Artagnan will need you at your best.”

Sighing, Aramis let Porthos guide him out of the hospital and to the familiar black Jeep.

***

The days dragged for Aramis. He tried to go to work, but that had been, suffice to say, one of the worst ideas he’d ever come up with. Thankfully, Constance was able to call on Arthur and Emrys to cover for him and after that, he decided it would be best to take a leave of absence before he accidentally killed someone. Now, his days were spent at the hospital or in a guilt-ridden daze at home for allowing d’Artagnan to be alone in a place he was terrified of. Ever since the night of the Dream factory fire, Aramis had felt compelled to protect the younger man when he could and now he was failing in that promise. 

Then there was the nagging feeling that all of this was his fault. If he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t kissed d’Artagnan in front of the other firefighters, then maybe they would have been further away from the bomb and…and… Aramis brushed away the tears that were ever present in his eyes these days. Both Porthos and Athos had tried to convince him that there was nothing he could have done, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. 

He let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding as he sagged against the wall of hospital elevator, huddling in the leather jacket that Porthos had given to him for his birthday, the one he wore whenever he needed to feel the larger man’s comfort and the man himself wasn’t present. Once again, he sent out a silent message of thanks to Athos for paying the difference to upgrade d’Artagnan’s room to a private one. He felt better knowing that no one but Porthos and occasionally Athos would see him break down. 

The doors slid open to chaos. He recognized a few of the nurses as they raced down the hall but it was the room they went into that nearly stilled his heart. Without thinking and ignoring the calls for him to stop, Aramis raced into d’Artagnan’s room.

The man huddled in a corner, bleeding from where I.V.s had been ripped from his arms. Clutched in his hand was a scalpel which he used to slash at anyone who came too close to him. His coffee colored eyes were wide with fear and filled with confusion.

Aramis made his way towards d’Artagnan, grateful to Ninon when the doctor ordered everyone back. He knelt in front of the obviously terrified man, keeping a safe distance, and waited for recognition to appear in those eyes he loved so much.

“A…Aramis?”

“Yes, Sweetheart, I’m here. You can put down that scalpel now. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

“But you can’t stop the dead things! They’re everywhere! They want me back!” D’Artagnan’s voice sounded even younger in his weakened and distressed state.

Aramis scowled for a moment before smoothing it over into an expression of understanding. “D’Artagnan, do you remember the haunted house ride, the one I was so afraid of going on? Remember how you protected me? I’ll do the same for you now, if you let me.”

D’Artagnan glanced around, still a bit hysterical. “I don’t want to be here, Aramis…”

“I understand.” Aramis bit his lip before adding, “How about you come home with me?”

“Now?” The note of pleading in the frightened voice tore at Aramis’ heart.

“Yes, now. I have some time off so I can take care of you.” He pointedly ignored the irritated hiss from behind him. “Let go of the blade and I’ll call Athos, alright? I know he and Porthos will help get you out of here and keep you safe.”

Slowly, d’Artagnan released the blade, letting it fall to the floor. Aramis darted in to grab him, gathering the scared man into a tight hug. He sat there cradling the fire fighter and rocking them both in time to the younger man’s quiet sobs.

***

“This is a bad idea.”

Aramis snorted at Ninon’s words. “It wouldn’t be my first.”

“You know he needs more care than what a paramedic can give him.”

Pausing in his signing the release forms, Aramis looked up. “What he needs is to be away from the thing that frightens him so. Especially when it’s obvious he can’t be properly looked after here.”

Heaving a sigh, the doctor flopped into the seat next to Aramis, reaching up to let her long, blond hair fall to her shoulders. “I do apologize for the mishandling of the medication. Nurse Catherine has been reprimanded and removed from her duties.” She paused before continuing. “Do you know why d’Artagnan has such a phobia of hospitals?”

Aramis shook his head. “I never asked. Just the thought of one seemed to send him into a panic attack.”

Ninon dipped her head. “I am most likely breaking doctor/patient confidentiality but I feel you should know this. When d’Artagnan was a child in foster care, he was in an accident- a drunk driver hit his foster parent’s car. No one was seriously injured, but d’Artagnan suffered a couple of cracked ribs. The doctor gave him something for the pain.”

At the surgeon’s pause, Aramis frowned. “I take it he had a bad reaction?”

“You could say that.” Ninon stared at her hands. “He stopped breathing. He was clinically dead for almost two minutes.”

Aramis felt his breath hitch. The thought that he might never have met the man he was steadily falling in love with was a knife to his heart. “What happened?”

“They were obviously able to resuscitate him, but when he woke, he was ranting like a madman about ‘dead things’, saying that they wanted him back.”

“What did he mean?”

Ninon shrugged. “The only thing I can think is that he believed he saw the people who died here. He never mentioned the incident again.”

“No wonder. I would be terrified of hospital after that, too.” Aramis couldn’t help but be reminded of the fear he felt in the haunted house ride. “I’m still taking him home. Thanks to Athos, d’Artagnan won’t need for anything while he recovers.”

“Athos…the S.W.A.T. lieutenant? How can he afford to set up a hospital room?”

Aramis grinned, something he felt he hadn’t done in a very long time. “Apparently, he comes from old money. He just doesn’t care about it.”

Ninon shook her head, a small smile playing on her full lips. “An intriguing man. Too bad he is not interested in women.”

“Actually, he swings both ways,” Aramis supplied, distracted by filling out the forms again. “But he has Porthos now, so…”

“So he is off limits. I understand.” The doctor stood up and fished a card out from her wallet, handing it to Aramis. “Here- my home number is on the back. Call if you need any assistance with anything. I might be able to help with any of the paperwork that occasionally appears from nowhere.”

Aramis, stunned, took the card. “Um…thank you…”

“D’Artagnan is something special.” She lightly touched the paramedic’s cheek. “And it is easy to see that he means the world to you, as I am certain you mean the same to him.”

“He does mean everything to me,” Aramis agreed, touched by the woman’s insight. “That’s why I need to do this for him.”

“Then I will leave you to finish those forms.” 

Aramis watched her leave, the fear and dread that had been pooling in the pit of his stomach since making his promise to d’Artagnan slowly dissolving. He wasn’t alone. And neither was d’Artagnan. They had somehow managed to surround themselves with a patchwork quilt family, people they loved and loved them in return.

Secure in that knowledge, Aramis returned to the never ending packet of papers.


	5. L’Appel du Vide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Musketeers  
> Warnings: Read them  
> Follow Me (My Personal Blog): [Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Follow PI (My Writing Blog): [Tumblr](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/)  
> Mindless Babble: Just a heads up, there is a tissue warning for the end of the chapter. Appearances of four character from two other favorite fandoms this chapter.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

D’Artagnan was positive that was the one thousandth time Aramis had asked that in since they had gotten up that morning. “It’s been a month, the doctors have cleared me for light duty and I got the green light from Treville.”

“But what about th-“

“Vadim and Felix are no longer here- they were transferred to another station.” He was pretty sure that was at least the five hundredth time he had to repeat that fact.

“But what about-“

D’Artagnan cut the man off. “I’m 99.8% certain that new firefighter actually works for Porthos and Athos so can you _please_ stop worrying about whoever planted that bomb?”

Aramis opened his mouth to bring up another argument but stopped at the younger man’s scowl. Instead he sighed. “Fine. You’re ready to return to work. I guess I’m just not ready for that.”

Laughing, d’Artagnan pulled the man in for a chaste kiss. “It'll be fine! “

“Ah, you must be Aramis!”

Both the medic and firefighter turned, watching the smaller man approach from the open garage of the station house. He was a good three inches shorter than Aramis but made up for it in sheer bulk. His hair was cropped short and there was a light dusting of stubble across the lower part of his ruggedly handsome face. Blue eyes shone with intelligence and maybe just a bit of mischief. He held out a calloused hand which Aramis took and was only slightly surprised at the strength of the greeting.

“I’m Jake Stone, the new guy.” 

The grin was warm and kind, not to mention infectious. Aramis returned the smile to d’Artagnan’s relief. Maybe now the medic could relax and focus on going back to full time work. The past thirty days had been rough on both of them, with Aramis taking on the bulk of caring for his injuries despite Fleur, the nurse Athos employed to help, being there. What didn’t help was Porthos and Athos being on edge since the bombing and failing to hide their anxiety when they came to visit.

“Athos hired you, didn’t he?”

D’Artagnan stared at Aramis, shocked at the man’s audacity. “I was only joking about that…”

Stone lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Yer not wrong.”

“What?!” 

Both Aramis and Stone chuckled as d’Artagnan’s hair smacked him in the face as his head whipped around to stare at the shorter man. “Athos didn’t want me ta tell ya, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Ya both should know what’s goin’ on.”

The humor drained from Aramis’ expression. “And what is going on?”

D’Artagnan shifted so he was closer to Aramis as Jake started to explain, his Southern accent almost softening the terrifying implications of his words. “Forensics identified the bomb as one routinely used by a Dreamscape drug lord, by the name of Rocheford . Yer two buddies have shut down several of his operations over the last year and so they think that the bomb was meant as a warning. They’ve even been working with a pair o’ FBI agents.”

“FBI?” Aramis asked, his entire body tensing.

Stone nodded. “Yeah, think their names are Mills and Crane. They’re supposed to be experts on Rocheford and his operation.”

“So…are you even a firefighter?”

Stone burst into laughter at d’Artagnan’s question, taking a few seconds to recover. “Yeah, I am. I grew up workin’ on oil rigs down south. Trust me, I can handle myself.” He turned to look at Aramis. “Just like yer new partner.”

“What happened to Constance?!” 

“You know, d’Artagnan, you might want to take it easy. You’re liable to get whiplash.” Aramis gently squeezed the young man’s hand. “Constance is visiting her sick godfather in France for a bit.”

“Oh.” D’Artagnan felt the relief flood his body. The woman had been there for him almost as much as Aramis over the past month, making sure both he and Aramis were taken care of as he recovered. After hearing the information about the drug lord, d’Artagnan was thrilled that she was far away from the danger.

“So, Eve is a friend of yours?” 

“You could say that.” Stone smirked. “Colonel Baird and I have worked together before. She’s good people and she knows her stuff. You’ll like her.”

“She’ll keep Aramis safe?”

Stone tilted his head up to look d’Artagnan in the eye. “As safe as I’ll keep you.” Then he turned his focus on Aramis. “I swear I’ll keep yer boy safe, ’til my dyin’ day, if need be.”

It was exactly what Aramis needed to hear. He pulled the younger firefighter close for a goodbye smooch. “Alright, I think I can leave you alone now. Don’t get into too much trouble, alright?”

D’Artagnan grinned and dipped his head for the kiss, not really caring what Stone thought. “I’ll promise if you make the same promise to me.”

“Deal!” Brushing his lips against the other man's one more time, Aramis stepped back. “Then I’ll pick you up after I get off work, alright?”

“Alright.” D’Artagnan waved as Aramis got into his car. He could positively feel Stone’s smirk. “What?”

“You’ve got it so bad. Ya both do.” Stone patted him on the shoulder, careful of the still healing injuries. “So, when’s the weddin’?”

D’Artagnan blushed as they turned to head back inside and out of the biting cold that had descended on the city over the past week. “We haven’t even been together that long. First time we kissed was the day before the bomb.”

An eyebrow arched in surprise. “Really? The way you two are around each other, I thought…”

“Actually he moved me in with him only two months ago.” D’Artagnan chuckled softly. “That was the first day we met.”

“Seriously?” Stone shook his head as he held the door open for the other man, knowing that with a healing collarbone, doors could be tricky. “Wait, I think Athos told me about that. He wasn’t happy about it at the time but a week later, he was singin’ a different tune.”

D’Artagnan tilted his head in, lost in thought. He knew that both Athos and Porthos had been less than thrilled at Aramis’ decision at the time. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t thank his lucky stars for how quickly they came to accept him though. The three men became the loving family he never had growing up and he knew he would never be able to survive without them now. 

***

Porthos wondered how it had come to this as he watched his lover pace in front of him, too much pent up anger and frustration for him to keep still. While he could sympathize with Athos, his energy levels bottomed out an hour ago, when Agent Mills called to inform them of an accident involving an ambulance, a critically injured Eve Baird and a missing Aramis. 

Athos stopped his pacing to check his phone for what had to be the twentieth time in the last half hour. Growling, he slammed it back into its holster. Porthos sighed. Apparently there was still no word on d’Artagnan who had gone grocery shopping for the firehouse with Stone earlier that day.

“Athos, Porthos.”

Porthos leaped to his feet as both men came to attention. Captain Louis Bourbon stalked towards them, anger radiating from every barely controlled movement. On his heels was Captain Treville, his demeanor mirroring Athos’ from moments before.

“Stone is currently being transported to the hospital.” Now that the pair of officers were standing in front of them, Porthos could see the sorrow in the firefighters eyes.

“What’s his condition?” Athos softly asked, obviously barely keeping it together.

“Critical. His heart already stopped once on the way there.”

Porthos heard his lover’s breath hitch and instinctively laid a gentle hand on the back of his neck, calming him slightly. “And d’Artagnan?”

“We were unable to locate him,” Louis growled out. It was only then that Porthos realized that their captain was not angry at them. He was furious with himself.

“Captain…it’s not your fault.”

“It is! If we had captured Rocheford in that last sting, none of this would have happened. But I let him slip through my fingers!”

“Are we sure it’s him?” Treville asked, a hidden plea in his voice.

“Yes,” Louis growled through gritted teeth. “This fits with his M.O.- someone starts interfering with his operations in an area, he finds the people closest to them and uses them to assert his power. The bomb last month was just a warning.”

Porthos decided to try a different tactic to sooth his commanding officer, especially since he didn’t want to continue with that line of thought. “What happened to Jake?”

Louis sighed, reining in his fury. “They apparently never made it to the store. We received an anonymous tip about an empty vehicle abandoned in a ditch by East River. We found Stone a little ways downriver, beaten to a bloody pulp.”

“Beaten?” Athos shook his head, disbelief evident in his voice. “Jake Stone is one of the best hand-to-hand combatants in the world. I’ve seen him take on five CIA trained fighters and come out on top.”

“I guess that gives us an idea of what we’re dealing with.” Porthos felt his shoulders drop. The two people they had entrusted their friends lives with were knocking on Death’s door, waiting for her to answer. And now their nearest and dearest were in the clutches of a madman.

“We’ll find them, Porthos,” Louis said, reaching out to squeeze the larger man’s bicep. “And when we do, we will make the man who took them pay.”

***

Athos sat by the bed, his nerves frayed beyond repair. He tried to wrap his tired mind around the events of the last week but it honestly was taking a Herculean effort just to stay awake. While he desperately wished for his lover’s comforting presence, he knew Porthos needed to be with Aramis right now. 

He gently lifted a hand that was far too cold wishing he could do more than provide comfort to the unconscious man. Athos hated seeing d’Artagnan like this, in drug induced coma with the man he loved in the same condition in another room. Neither man deserved this fate.

“I am so sorry d’Artagnan. This is my fault. I should have hunted that bastard down when I had the chance.” Athos sighed, bringing the hand to his lips. “He is dead now. Not that it does you or Aramis any good…”

“Athos?”

The man looked up to see a familiar face, one he hadn’t seen an age, not since the divorce all those years ago. “Anne…what are you doing here?”

The beautiful woman gave him a small, sad smile. “Abby called me. She said this case was a mess and not all of it was the fault of the drug. Agent Crane added that he was worried about you and your partner.”

“They have no need to worry. I am quite done with crawling into a bottle to escape life.” With more care than was actually necessary, Athos laid the hand back on the bed. Gently kissing the younger man’s forehead, he stood and followed his former wife through the door.

“I was unaware that you were working for the FBI now.”

The woman shrugged. “I decided after we went our separate ways, I should start completely anew. And for the record, I go by my middle name now.”

“Milady.”

“I’m glad you remembered.” She led him to a small conference room and closed the door. “Would you like to talk about what happened?”

“Not with you.”

Milady chuckled. “You really don’t have another option. This is an order from your captain. I was merely trying to be polite.”

Athos huffed, dropping into a chair and waiting for Milady to gracefully take her seat. The divorce had been messy, with accusations being thrown like knives. It had taken years before they could even be in the same room without an argument breaking out. Recently though, they had tried working things out and could almost pass for working acquaintances, which apparently was the reason Louis had sent her to him. He wondered if Porthos was being given similar treatment.

“Not sure where to start…”

“I’ve found the beginning is usually a good place.”

Rolling his eyes, Athos took a few moments to gather his thoughts. “Then I suppose it started when Mills and Crane received the tip that found them arresting Vargas.”

“Rocheford’s right hand man?” Milady raised an eyebrow. “An impressive bust. I take it that he led you to Aramis and d’Artagnan?”

“We didn’t give him much choice.”

From the corner of his eye, Athos saw his former wife flinch at the deadly tone in his voice and had to repress the sudden urge to laugh. Milady only knew him from a time when he denied a large portion of who he really was. Porthos, with some help from Aramis, coaxed some of that hidden self to light. The darker parts just came along for the ride.

“What happened then?”

“Porthos and I stormed the place they were being kept.” Athos harshly swallowed, and turned his head. He felt the tears welling up in his eyes. “It was a men’s club not far from where d’Artagnan once lived before Aramis kidnapped him.”

His chuckle sounded forced even to him. He knew it wouldn’t fool Milady either. Even before the divorce, she had been one of the best psychologist in her field. She single handedly solved several local police cases while they were dating. It was the reason his father allowed the courtship to continue into marriage.

“But that was just a front, wasn’t it?” Milady reached out and took her ex-husband’s hands into her own, a gesture that felt real in this surreal world that Athos was currently residing in.

“Yes. It actually was Rocheford’s headquarters…” 

“Tell me how you found them.”

Athos snapped his head up to glare at the woman as he pulled his hands from her. “You know how we found them!”

“Yes, but I need to hear you say it,” she replied calmly. “I need you to acknowledge what your friends went through.”

“Fine! They were tied to beds, drugged, tortured and sexually assaulted! Is that what you wanted to hear? Or did you need the details? Details like the fact that d’Artagnan was raped three times but he got off lucky compared to Aramis who was raped at least five times over the last three days. Or maybe you want to hear how the Dreamscape made d’Artagnan think it was his love that was hurting him. Or the fact that Aramis believes all the torture that was heaped on him was inflicted on d’Artagnan and he was just forced to watch. Or-”

Athos broke off when he realized he was shouting. His shoulders slumped and he bowed his head to stare at the floor. It was easier than seeing Milady’s expression of sympathy. He was grateful that there hadn’t been any pity in her eyes.

“So then you’ve seen the recordings.”

Athos nodded even though it wasn’t a question. “Porthos and I found them after the ambulance...took…”

“Aramis and d‘Artagnan,” the psychologist finished for him. “Was that before or after Rocheford had his...accident?”

This time, it was Athos who flinched, a reaction that he normally would have been able to suppress if he wasn’t so tired. “Before.”

Milady tilted her head, a secretive smile on her lips. “I thought as much. Such a pity that he didn’t mention that wound…”

For a moment, Athos was able to forget where he was and lose himself in a memory of a time when he and Anne shared little jokes that only the two of them would get. He mourned the moment after it passed and reality took hold again. He sighed.

“What happens now?”

“You and Porthos will go home, eat something and sleep,” Milady replied. “Then tomorrow...well, we will see what it brings.”

***

“I want to see d’Artagnan.”

Porthos sighed. “Aramis, we’ve talked about this-”

“No, you talked. And all you said was that he wasn’t ready. That was a week ago. I just want to make sure he’s alright.” Aramis crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his best friend, which might have been more effective if he wasn’t sitting in a hospital bed wearing a flimsy, pastel blue hospital gown.

“I know you do, Baby. But it’s you who needs the time to heal, you know that.” 

Porthos gently brushed back a lock of brown hair. Both Aramis and d’Artagnan were recovering physically but the emotional wounds from the Dreamscape they were subjected to were taking longer to heal. Five days after doctors brought Aramis out of his three day induced coma, Milady, Athos, and Porthos showed him the footage of what actually happened. Unable to accept what happened, Aramis had lapsed into a catatonic state that broke in the early hours of the following morning. Those ten hours of complete nothingness followed by the two filled with pained cries were the worst of Porthos’ life.

He was selfishly glad he wasn’t there when Milady showed d’Artagnan the same recordings.

Aramis huffed and refused to look at him. “I don’t even understand how you’re getting him to stay here…”

Porthos swallowed and slumped backwards. “He’s here of his own free will... says he’s not afraid anymore.”

“He’s not? Why?” 

“He said he’s seen scarier things…” Porthos softly replied, knowing how much it was going to hurt Aramis, who knew what d’Artagnan’s Dream had been.

“Please, I need to see him!” The medic finally turned to look at him, tears streaming down his face. “Please?”

“We can’t let you see him yet, Aramis. He’s not ready.” The pained expression nearly broke Porthos right then and there.

“He’s afraid of me, isn’t it?”he whispered, his far too slender body slumping as if all life had been drained from it. He pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

“I’m sorry Baby, but shortly after you woke up, you somehow managed to find your way to d’Artagnan’s room.” Porthos stared at his hands, remembering a time when they brought comfort to the same man he was currently hurting with his words. “He saw you and freaked out...had to be sedated. So did you for that matter.”

“I...I don’t remember that…”

“You were still suffering from the aftereffects of Dreamscape poisoning and the medication they had you on wasn’t helping to clear your head.” Porthos watched his friend curl up tighter. “Just give it some time. Milady is working with him and she says that he’s showing progress.”

Aramis nodded mutely before turning to lay down on his side, his back facing Porthos. “I’m tired.”

“Alright. Maybe we can talk more in the morning, yeah?”

There was a soft non-commental noise from the bed but nothing else. Porthos stood and placed a gentle kiss on the soft brown hair, before leaving the small hospital room and the broken soul who resided in it.

***

Aramis quietly approached the bed on bared feet. The black sweats he wore blended with the darkness of the room, the only light coming from the night light near the bed. D’Artagnan slept soundly, curled into a tight ball around a tiny penguin in a white hoodie. The sight brought a faded smile to the intruder’s lips.

“My sweet d’Artagnan,” he whispered, stopping next to the bed. A hand reached out, but Aramis was careful to let it only hover, not touch. He knew the doctors had been medicating the younger man to help him sleep, just as they had been doing for him. Tonight though, he had asked to see if he could try to go the night without drugs. The doctors were pleased, thinking their patient was progressing.

Aramis huffed softly. If only they knew.

“I’m so sorry for what you’ve suffered, sweetheart. I know you’ll never be able to even look at me after everything that happened, but I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it. You will be my last love.”

He brought his fingers to his lips before pressing them lightly to the small plushy. He wished he could give the man who still held his heart the kiss, but this was the only option left to him now. He hoped the soft toy would stand in his stead, offering the comfort he was no longer allowed to provide.

“Goodbye d’Artagnan, my Love.”

With that, Aramis turned and left, never looking back.


	6. Xingfu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Musketeers  
> Warnings: Read them  
> Follow Me (My Personal Blog): [Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Follow PI (My Writing Blog): [Tumblr](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/)  
> Mindless Babble: I would like to thank all of you for the wonderful comments and kudos you've graced this story with. I mentioned in one of my blogs that I was thinking of making this into a series with side stories and such. Let me know if this is something that you would like to read, please?

‘Apparently history does repeat itself,’ Athos thought as he found himself once again sitting at the bedside of his newest friend. Two floors down, Porthos sat with his oldest and dearest companion.

A companion that was currently residing in an intensive care unit.

As he watched the steady rise and fall of d’Artagnan’s chest, he tried not to think of the phone call from his ex-wife that brought him here. Her demand that he come to the hospital immediately woke him faster than a bucket of cold water being thrown on him. The concern lacing her words did more to instil fear in him than hearing how d’Artagnan had violently woken, screaming for a man who no longer resided in his room.

“Pothos found Aramis. He was back home.” Athos didn’t know if d’Artagnan could hear him as sedated as he was but it felt right for him to be the one to explain to the boy what happened. “Evidently you were right - he was in...distress.”

That was an understatement. Somehow, in the span of just a few hours, Aramis had managed to escape the hospital, score a truly impressive hit of heroin and return to his condo. No one had any delusions about his plans. The fact that he almost succeeded…

Athos shook his head in a vain attempt to dispel the lingering horror. If it hadn’t been for d’Artagnan’s nightmare, Porthos would have been too late. As it was, he just barely managed to administer the Evzio injection that countered the effects of the heroin overdose in time to keep the medic among the breathing. Between this prophetic dream of d’Artagnan’s and a medically drugged Aramis finding his love’s room in a hospital that had several stories and more than a few wings, Athos was now thoroughly convinced that the two of them needed each other in the same way he and Porthos needed one another. 

“Porthos found him in a filled bath. He even used some of that scented oil the two of you like so much.” He swallowed and blinked back the tears. “You know what a drama queen Aramis is…he had a grand mal seizure shortly after Porthos got him back here. Ninon thinks it was the remainder of Dreamscape mixing with heroin that caused it.”

His attempt at humor sounded hollow but Athos felt he needed to try, even if d’Artagnan couldn’t hear him. He wanted the young man to know that no one blamed him. That fault lay solely with Rocheford and his cursed drug. 

“He’ll be here longer than you now.” Though Aramis had been the main target of Rocheford’s malice, d’Artagnan was still recovering from the incident with the bomb when he was taken. Many of those wounds had been reopened and mending bones once again broken. “Doctors are saying that he might be home for Christmas if we’re lucky.” 

Athos sighed as he ran his hand through his grimy hair. He desperately needed a shower, preferably a long hot one with his lover. “This year just needs to be done with.”

He stood and leaned down to lay a gentle kiss on d’Artagnan’s brow, remembering a time not so long ago when he first did this exact same thing. “I need to go check on Porthos. He’s been a wreck since Milady called this morning. I’ll come by later, maybe try to sneak you in some Chinese food if you’re feeling up to it. I don’t remember what you like so you’ll have to wake up and tell me.”

Brushing back a lock of d’Artagnan’s unruly hair, Athos gave the unconscious man a sad smile. “We will figure this out, d’Artagnan. It’s what families do, yes?”

***

“Athos, wake up, man. Got something to show you.” The demand was accompanied by a solid smack to the sole of his tactical boot.

Athos cracked an eye, before snapping both open in an angry scowl. “Stone! What are you doing up? Ninon is going to kill me if she finds you here!”

“Yeah, and she’ll be doubly mad when she finds out you let yer boy escape too.” Jake’s easy smile and soft accent did a great deal to take the malice out of the words.

“Wha-?” Athos finally looked at the bed- the empty bed. “Damn it! Where did he get to now?!”

Jake laughed. “Calm down! I know right where he is. And he’s safe. Baird is with him.”

Athos stood up and tried to glare at his old friend, but failed as relief flooded his body. Then his brain caught up to him. “Wait, Baird is with d’Artagnan? You mean she’s escaped too? Is anyone still where they’re supposed to be?”

The mirth faded from the other man’s expression. “Aramis is...for once.”

Sighing, Athos ran a hand over his face. Though it felt like a lifetime ago, it was in reality only yesterday that Porthos had found his friend in a tub of water, trying to end his life one way or another. Louis had arrived that morning with his wife, the lead coordinator for River City’s only ambulance company, Anne. Both of them offered sympathy and asked if they could help in any way, Louis informing him that both he and Porthos were on paid leave until further notice. He claimed it was a reward for the capture of Rocheford and the end of his hold on the city, but Athos saw it for what it was: time for all four of them to heal.

“So where’s d’Artagnan?”

Jake motioned with his hand to follow him before gripping his crutches again. Two weeks after being found in the river, his recovery time could only be hailed as a miracle. Most of the bruises were now faded and the cuts were well on their way to being even more badges of honor for the man to wear on his skin. The bones in his leg were taking longer to heal as they had not merely been broken, but shattered. Jake’s days of going through airport security quickly were over with the amount of metal now supporting what was left of the bone.

Athos followed Jake to the elevators where they went down two floor. He tried to control the hope that surged in his chest, but it was hard to do especially when he saw Porthos standing just outside the door to Aramis’ room. His lover’s expression melted his heart much in the same way it had when they kissed for the first time.

Porthos turned his head towards them as they approached, a finger to his lips. Still smiling, he pointed to the space in the sliding glass door where the blinds had been slightly pushed to the side. Unconsciously using the stealth that he honed as a S.W.A.T. officer, Athos crept over to take his lover’s place. Peering inside, he felt the warmth in his chest spread even as his heart broke just a bit.

D’Artagnan sat on the edge of the lone bed dressed in sweats that Porthos had brought him and Aramis a few days before. Holding the hand of the man he had screamed for just 24 hours ago, Athos could see him forming words, but couldn’t tell if he was actually vocalizing them. Sitting in the arm chair on the other side of the bed, Eve Baird smiled at the younger man, her expression one of mixed joy and sorrow.

He pulled away from the sight, turning to join Porthos and Jake who had stepped away to speak in hushed voices. “So when did this happen?”

Porthos grinned and opened his mouth but snapped it shut at his lover’s warning glare. Instead, both turned to Jake, who looked like he wanted to say what Porthos had been thinking but was a bit wiser than the officer.

“Baird texted me a few minutes ago. Said d’Artagnan had snuck in there ‘bout half an hour ago. Hasn’t actually said a word but keeps up this silent litany.”

“This is a good thing, right?” Porthos asked, hope pitching his tone a bit deeper than normal.

“It could be,” Athos replied, the warmth fading. “It could be that d’Artagnan has gotten over his fear of Aramis, but we have no idea how much damage Aramis has done to himself with this little stunt. If there’s any brain damage, it may just harm d’Artagnan as well.”

Porthos’ entire demeanor sagged. “Didn’t think of that…”

Jake scowled at the dejected pair. “Hey now! You two thinkin’ like that isn’t helpin’ anyone. They need ya ta carry the hope they don’t have the strength to do so for themselves. So stop bein’ so damn pessimistic ‘bout this! They’re both goin’ ta come outta this jus’ fine!”

It always amused Athos when Jake got so passionate about something as it brought out his accent even stronger than normal. This time was no exception and it returned a ghost of the humor from earlier. Glancing at Porthos, he knew his lover felt the same.

“You’re right.”

“Course I’m right!” Jake grinned. “Now, which one o’ ya is goin’ ta help me back ta my room, ‘cause I don’t think I can make it on my own…”

Athos snorted. “It would serve you right to be found by Ninon…” He held up his hand to stop Jake’s protests before they started. “But you did help me, so let’s go. I’ll see if I can’t find you a wheelchair on the way.”

Porthos called out as they made their way down the hall. “And for the sake of my sanity, stop harassing Nurse Cassandra!” 

***

“So...does Aramis know about his condo?”

Porthos nodded as he finished tying up his boots. “Yeah, he had to sign the paperwork.”

“So he understood?”

Rolling his eyes at his lover, Porthos again nodded. “Yes, Love, he understood. He’s not completely damaged. Like Milady said, it’ll just take time for his brain to make the connections again.”

Athos sighed as he picked up a warm coat, handing it to Porthos when the man stood. “I know. It’s just...I’ve never known Aramis to be so quiet.”

“Well, he’s a match for d’Artagnan now.” He tried to smile but stopped when it felt too forced.

After waking up screaming for Aramis, the younger man had not uttered a single sound. Three months and not a word. Porthos and Athos learned about the silence when they moved d’Artagnan into their new home after he was released from the hospital. He remained on medical leave and there was some debate as to whether or not he would ever be able to return to the job. Athos made it clear to the firefighter that he didn’t need to work until he felt ready. Even if full recovery never became an option, Athos swore he would make sure d’Artagnan was taken care of, even offering to pay for school if he wanted to change vocations.

Still, the new house had been a perfect idea and according to Athos, who actually paid for the place, quite a steal. It had taken more than a few renovations to get it to the exact specifications they wanted but now there was only one thing missing: Aramis.

It actually had been an offhanded remark by Constance that led to the creation of the house. It had started life out as a small mansion for a somewhat successful businessman but after the renovations it was now, quite literally, a home on top of a home. Both upstairs and down had two bedrooms, a fully equipped kitchen and attached dining room, a bathroom with separate tub and shower stall and a spacious living room. The upstairs “home” would be occupied by Athos and Porthos while the bottom one would belong to Aramis and d’Artagnan.

The only glitch in this plan was that no one had actually told Aramis about this arrangement. All he knew was that he would be living with his two best friends for a while.

Both Porthos and Athos hoped that by keeping the medic’s furnishings, Aramis would feel safe and be able to continue to heal at home instead if the rehab center he had been in for the last two months. It seemed to have worked for d’Artagnan. According to Milady, the firefighter had been improving in leaps and bounds, learning to express himself without words, even if that did frustrate her just a bit.

“Does d’Artagnan know where you’re going today?”

Porthos sighed, feeling a bit guilty. “No. I...I couldn’t figure out a way to tell him. I think he’s still blaming himself for what Aramis did.”

Athos inclined his head in agreement. “I promised we would watch some train movie he’s been wanting to see while you were gone. Apparently it has Captain America in it…”

Porthos huffed, shaking his head in humor. “Yeah, he might have a slight crush on that Evans guy.”

The pair of them descended the stairs together to be met by d’Artagnan who held a Blu-ray case pressed to his chest under crossed arms. Porthos chuckled, seeing the pout on his face. 

“I’ll be home in a couple of hours and then we can all decorate the tree, alright?”

The three of them had gone out and bought a Christmas tree the day before and set it up in the downstairs living room, but Porthos wouldn’t let them decorate it. It wouldn’t feel right without Aramis being there with them. Especially since the tree was in the living room that technically belonged to him anyways.

D’Artagnan huffed, nodding his head, clearly still sulking. Laughing, Porthos pulled the younger man in and kissed his forehead before turning and giving Athos a light peck to the lips. He offered them a quick grin.

“I’m sure Bruno and Lucifur will be happy to keep you both company while I’m gone.”

D’Artagnan immediately lit up at the names, while Athos sighed dramatically, causing Porthos to smile even wider. Bruno the German Shepherd mix and Lucifur the black Angora cat came to them from the local Humane Society the day Athos read an article about how pets could help in rehabilitation. He and Porthos argued over which animal to get, eventually settling on getting both. The pair were waiting at the door when Athos brought d’Artagnan home and it was love at first sight for all three.

“We’ll probably still be sacked out on the couch when you get back. Drive safe. The weather is supposed to take a turn for the worst.”

“I will.” With another quick kiss, Porthos was out the door.

***

Aramis stared at the house, his eyes wide in awe. “This is...your new house?”

Porthos chuckled as he grabbed his friend’s bag from the back seat. “It’s your home too. Well, the bottom half is. We moved your stuff here. Hope you don’t mind.”

Shaking his head, Aramis got out of the Jeep on his own. Where speech may have been eluding him, his body had no issues with returning to the grace that was once his. His fine motor skills improved so much and so quickly, even the physiotherapist, Lemay, was shocked. With Porthos’ promise to let him help with Christmas dinner as incentive, Aramis didn’t think it was that shocking.

“Athos insisted on adding a few things to your kitchen though, like a dish washer.”

Aramis smirked but only for an instant before fading by a memory that held both happiness and sadness in equal parts. “D’Artagnan hated...doing dishes.”

“Oh trust me, I know!” The bigger man laughed as he gently patted his friend on the back. “Come on, let’s get inside. It’s freezing out here!”

“White Christmas?” Being so excited about getting out of the rehab facility, Aramis had missed the news for a week straight.

“Yeah,” Porthos replied as he walked Aramis to the front door and fumbled for his keys. “Apparently so white, we’ll be buried in it…”

The door opened to reveal an annoyed Athos. “You were taking too long.”

Aramis let out a soft peal of laughter as Porthos rolled his eyes at his lover. It was turned into a louder squeak of surprise as Athos pulled him inside to hug him as tightly as he dared. Aramis returned it in kind.

“Oy! You two want to let me in?”

Letting go of Athos, Aramis stepped to the side, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No worries, Baby,” Porthos replied as he stepped in and closed the door.

As he stripped out of his coat, Athos helped Aramis with his. He knew the cop needed to feel helpful and it was nice to feel a little spoiled. He grinned, knowing that this would be the best time to ask.

“Do I get to...help with Christmas dinner?” The grin slipped into a scowl as Porthos and Athos shared one of their silent conversations. “You can just...say no…”

An expression of pure horror appeared on both faces, though it was Porthos who answered. “It’s not that, Aramis! We just thought that maybe we’d get it catered.”

Aramis wondered if maybe his brain was having trouble again because that didn’t make any sense. “Why?”

“How about you actually come inside instead of standing at the doorway and we can explain?” Athos suggest as he touched the small of man’s back to guide him into the house proper.

Aramis made it two steps before stopping in utter terror. He could see the living room from where he stood, with all of his familiar furniture. The TV was frozen on a scene of an eclipse and at the center of it, a face stared at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving. He spun around to face a pair of anxious friends.

“Please don’t do this to him!”

Porthos blinked, clearly surprised at the lack of hesitation in his friend’s words. “Aramis-”

“No! It’s not...fair to him!” Aramis grabbed the front of Porthos’ sweatshirt, bunching it in his fists in his panic stricken state. “Please! I will go...back. Just don’t...do this to him!”

“Aramis,” Athos softly intoned. “Why don’t you ask him what he thinks?”

Feeling a touch on his shoulder, Aramis slammed into Porthos, terror overriding everything else in his misfiring brain. Dark skinned hands steadied and turned him around so he stood face to face with the man he still loved with all of his heart. It may have taken him longer than it once would have, but it slowly became apparent that there wasn’t a trace of fear anywhere in those handsome features. In fact, a hesitant smile was beginning to appear.

“D’Artagnan…”

He gasped as he suddenly found surprisingly strong arms wrapping around his emaciated frame. He wrapped his own trembling arms around the younger man, burying his face in the soft hair and inhaling the scent of the girly shampoo they both loved but never admitted to actually liking. It had been almost three months, though it felt like a lifetime, since he last felt this content.

A soft whisper cut through the silence, rendering both Athos and Porthos speechless with disbelief. “Welcome home, Aramis.”

***

Aramis sat on the couch, watching the lights on the tree and listening to the soft murmur of voices surrounding him. They belonged to the people who made up their patchwork family, invited over the night after Aramis came home to share a Christmas eve dinner. A librarian named Ezekiel stood with Baird as they chatted with Stone and the nurse Porthos accused him of harassing. Constance was sharing stories of Paris with Arthur and Emrys. Mills and Crane were discussing various holiday traditions from around the world. Ninon and Milady bonded over a shared love of books and tea. He could hear Porthos and Athos arguing over the differences between hot chocolate and hot cocoa as they made some warm drinks to go with the dessert they decided to serve in the living room around the decorated tree.

The tree was was like their little family. The lights were Athos’ contribution to the decorating. Several strands of bubble lights softly gurgled, the red, blue and orange glow peaceful and calming. The ornaments were a mishmash of Porthos’ delicately hand made ones and the ones Aramis carefully chose from selected stores and special catalogs. Strangely, they worked well together. D’Artagnan had been miserable that he had nothing to offer as he and his father really never celebrated any holiday and the foster homes were even worse. That evening, just before the first of several storms hit, Athos took him shopping while Porthos got Aramis settled in so he could buy gifts and have something to add to the tree. The simple but elegant silver star complemented the rest of the decorations and completed the tree.

Movement next to Aramis distracted him from his wandering thoughts. Glancing down, he pulled the throw blanket higher on d’Artagnan’s shoulder as the younger man snuggled closer. Smiling, he ran his fingers through the dark locks.

“You must be part... cat.” 

D’Artagnan twisted to stare in confusion at him and considering that words were still a problem for Aramis, the expression was justified. “A cat?”

“Like a cat...in a ball.” He gestured to how the man was laying on the couch. “And... you like being...petted.”

“Meow.” D’Artagnan smirked up at him.

Laughing, Aramis leaned over to place a soft kiss on the other’s cheek. They were both still working on rebuilding the intimacy that had been lost to one man’s cruelty but neither were in too much of a hurry, content to start over. They knew the love was still there and that was all that mattered for now.

“I’m glad it’ll be just the four of us tomorrow.” D’Artagnan curled in tighter next to Aramis.

“Me too.” Aramis smiled and ran his fingers through the soft hair. Porthos had compromised with Aramis, having tonight’s dinner with friends catered and letting him help make Christmas dinner. The turkey was already thawing in the sink upstairs since Lucifur had already tried to steal it from the sink in the downstairs kitchen, not caring that the bird outweighed him by at least ten pounds.

As if summoned with a thought, the large black cat jumped onto the back of the couch and proceeded to start licking the hair on the back of Aramis’ head. The man sighed, rolling his eyes as d’Artagnan started to giggle. When Bruno adopted d’Artagnan, Lucifur decided that Aramis was his and as such, needed to be groomed every time the man was still for more than five minutes much to the other’s delight.

“You two look comfortable,” Athos remarked, bringing over two mugs of warm apple cider.

D’Artagnan sat up to take his cup, blushing slightly as Aramis pulled the throw back over his shoulders, greatly upsetting his feline caretaker. “It’s nice, being here with friends.”

Aramis nodded in agreement as he took his favorite Star Wars mug filled with steaming cider. Even though he was looking forward to tomorrow, being surrounded by the people who helped them to survive this last year did have a pleasant feeling to it. Yet, this morning, Aramis had a taste of what Christmas would bring and it made him want more. The day Porthos brought him home, the cop stopped at a small shopping center so Aramis could pick out gifts and then, later helped wrap them before putting them under the tree. After catching d’Artagnan poking at the gifts with Bruno and Lucifur, the three men decided to introduce their youngest to the joys of presents. The sheer glee in d’Artagnan’s expression as he opened a gift from Athos and Porthos had made the entire day for Aramis. The pair of toy penguins now joined Freddy on the bed he and d’Artagnan shared. His own gift from his love completed the penguin family, even though d’Artagnan had been horrified when Aramis hugged the earmuff and striped scarf clad plushie and it turned out to be a squeaking dog toy. It honestly had made Aramis love the penguin, now christened Isaac, even more.

“I believe everyone will be leaving after dessert. This storm is supposed to be the worst and everyone wants to be home before it hits,” Athos commented as he reached down to pet Bruno who was never far from d’Artagnan’s side.

D’Artagnan grinned at Aramis. “You’re getting your wish- a white Christmas.”

“You know, if you had to shovel this stuff all the time, you sure as hell wouldn’t wishing for that.”

Aramis looked up at Porthos as he joined Athos and smiled innocently. “I would help... if you let me.”

“Let’s get some meat back on your bones, then we’ll talk.” With that, he held out two plates of cake with one hand for Aramis and d’Artagnan while holding out another for Athos. 

Together, they finished their dessert and walked everyone out to their cars. Athos and Porthos helped clean up before heading upstairs, presumably to go to bed, but Aramis suspected they had other plans with the way they were looking at each other.

He sighed as he took d’Artagnan’s hand and walked with him to their bedroom, a pair of critters following them. It never ceased to amuse him that the two animals preferred their companionship over the company of the two people that actually adopted them. 

They dressed for bed and slid under the covers. D’Artagnan slipped into his customary position snuggled against Aramis with one arm wrapped over the man’s stomach. A memory floated back to Aramis of their first night together after d’Artagnan moved in with him. It was a good memory and it helped to dispel the ones that still lingered in his nightmares.

He lay there, watching his love sleep in the soft light provided by the heavy cloud cover and the city lights. Here, with the man he loved in his arms, a gentle purring in his ear and the soft snuffling of the dog by the bed, Aramis felt safe and at peace. Sleep caught him unawares and he drifted until he jerked awake at feeling like something was wrong.

D’Artagnan wasn’t in the bed.

He sat up in a panic only to realize that the younger man hadn’t gone that far. He stood at the window, his arms wrapped around himself, watching the snow fall. The expression on his youthful face was one of wonder and delight. Aramis smiled to himself as he got out of the bed and pulled a blanket from it. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one to have wished for a white Christmas.

He walked over to d’Artagnan and wrapped the blanket around both of them, hugging the other, so they could watch the snow together. “Pretty.”

D’Artagnan made a soft noise of agreement before turning slightly in Aramis’ arms. “It’s after midnight.”

“Hmm…” Aramis glanced at the clock on the nightstand, the blue glowing numbers informing him that it was indeed two minutes after midnight.

When he turned back to gaze out the window, he found soft lips gently pressing against his own. It took him a moment to realize what was happening but then he easily returned the gentle kiss, feeling the promise of something more behind it.

D’Artagnan broke the kiss, but didn’t move away. “Merry Christmas, Aramis.”

Smiling softly, Aramis brought their foreheads together. “Merry Christmas, d’Artagnan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illusion chapter notes:  
> [Chapter One](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/post/135364275794/illusions-chapter-one-notes)  
> [Chapter Two](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/post/135367929694/illusions-chapter-two-notes)  
> [Chapter Three](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/post/135491475824/illusions-chapter-three-notes%22)  
> [Chapter Four](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/post/135493078459/illusions-chapter-four-notes)  
> [Chapter Five](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/post/135837942144/illusions-chapter-five-notes)  
> [Chapter Six](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/post/135958580729/illusions-chapter-six-notes)  
> 


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